Painted on my Heart
by 1sweetmoment
Summary: The lost years between losing his memory and joining the X-Men- Logan meets a strange woman, and they may have more in common than he thought. Logan has plans for finding his lost memories, but his inner animal may be too distracted by the untamed female.
1. Black Devil

I am running. No reason, really. Just running. There is barely a sound as each of my feet collide with the ground. The soft ground, giving to my weight, leaving nothing behind but the paw prints that would lead to my position. But I don't care. I'm only running for the sheer joy. The feel of the breeze catching in my fur, cascading in waves down my back. The sight of the trees, only a blur as I slip past.

I can smell the sap of the aspens and the dying leaves of the willows. The reeking smell of sweat comes from yards away, coating the back of a yearling grazing in the meadow. I can hear feathers ruffle as a blue jay preens himself, and the sound of an air bubble surfacing after escaping from the lips of a toad in the still waters of a nearby pond. It is nearing mid-fall, and I can smell the dying grass, the berries gathered by the bear as he prepares for his long slumber, and the newly lain asphalt of the interstate freeway.

I keep running.

.......................................................

I head into a nearby town that I have been frequenting for several weeks now. The local bar is almost empty. Typical, even for a Friday night. I step in, removing my cotton sweater and take a seat at the table in the far corner where the lights are dim and the smells of the kitchen are hardly recognized. The bartender, who has come to know my face, nods his head and approaches my table.

"The usual?" he asks in almost a whisper. I don't believe I have ever heard him raise the volume of his soft voice.

I simply nod and flash a smile.

A moment later, he returns with a whiskey on the rocks. I lay a five dollar bill on the table and retrieve the glass, the ice cubes clicking as I move. The liquid burns when it reaches my throat, and I can feel the heat as it travels down into my stomach. After a sip, I hold the glass to my nose, eyes closed, taking in the potent aroma. Any sinus congestion, gone. Just one taste or smell of this elixir, and it's as if I'd never smelled a day in my life until this moment.

......................................................

I am running again, but this time for a reason.

My stomach growled vigorously, impatiently. Going days without food can begin to take it's toll in the most inconvenient circumstances, and sometimes, unexpectedly. Especially depending on what kind of life you lead. In my case, I need to make sure that I pay attention. I have two lifestyles to feed, and it is dire that I listen to my stomach.

I had been targeting a ranch in the area a few nights a week, picking off chickens and sometimes small pigs. But tonight, I was in the mood for something different. Something gamy. I was in the mood for a chase.

I certainly have the strength and stamina to take down larger prey, such as deer, or even elk, but with only one belly to feed and nowhere of my own to store the leftover meat, it would only be a waste of energy. Not to mention, I'd rather not attract another predator or some filthy scavenger. I'm rarely in the mood for a fight.

Silently and effortlessly, I practically float through the forest. I am a dark ghost against the night shadows. Light clouds of breath crawl from my nose as I keep my heart beat steady. I wait patiently, listening.

And then, it happens. I hear blades of dead grass being pushed aside and crushed into the ground. I turn to view the poor soul who had just committed this deadly mistake. Before me, merely twenty yards, crouched a lone hare. His nose reached the sky and his ears twitched in every direction, while his heart beat rapidly. He sensed that danger was near.

I moved closer, my eyes fixed on the animal, practically drooling over the thought of quieting the growling of my stomach. I made it only a pounce away when he turned and ran for his life. I was quickly on his trail, only feet behind.

He darted around trees, over roots, under fallen branches, through hedges, searching frantically for somewhere to hide, but he would have no luck. I quickly caught up as the terrain flattened, and lunged, catching his neck and the back of his head in my jaws. One quick squeeze, and the sound of shattering bones rang through the West side of the mountain. The rabbit went limp. I began to rip and tear, the taste of warm blood spilling onto my gums. It was just as effective and intoxicating as whiskey, sending shivers down my spine, then warming my body. The taste of his flesh was addictive, and I feasted through the night until picking his bones clean.

....................................................

I am at the bar, this time sipping on a mug of beer, thinking that my time to move on to the next town was approaching. It is another weekend, and there are a few more people in than usual.

I meet a man named Benjamin. He tells me to call him Bear, I'm guessing due to his abnormally large size. He tells me he is a rancher which I also guessed. The pungent smell of urine and animal sweat stained his dirty denim overalls, but there was a sweet scent of wheat and oats that countered. I held onto that for as long as I could.

Bear's voice was as grizzly as his stature. His bass octave beat in my ears while he spoke of his years in the mountains. He continued to comment on my looks, constantly gushing about how beautiful I was, and how he had never seen such blue like the color of my eyes. I giggled softly, just to amuse. He was as friendly as small town folk get, which isn't saying much. Not one person has caught my interest in any way for many years now. That had a lot to do with my moving around. And I never hit cities. That was too risky, for various reasons.

An hour and three beers later, Bear began to complain to me about his late encounters with a menace on his ranch.

"This dang animal is stealin' my livestock." he drawled. "Damn black devil. Watched 'em make off with one a my pigs other week."

I cocked a brow "Really?" with mocked interest.

"Yes ma'am. Strange, too. We never get wolves round here." He murmured. "But I'll git 'em. Bought myself a shotgun other day. Next time I'll be waitin'." He exclaimed before pounding his lager and slamming the mug on the table.

I chuckled while making a mental note to not visit his ranch again. I also noted that it is just about time to get out of here. Maybe tomorrow, around noon, while the sun is bright and the air is cool.

........................................................

I woke up early in the morning, curled up under saddle blankets in the back of one of the pickups parked at the inn. I stretched, yawned, and hopped out. It was a beautiful morning, and telling by the sun, I guessed it was after ten o'clock.

I entered the bar, for the last time I figured, and ordered a scrambled egg with toast. Moments later, my breakfast arrived at the table, and I ate slowly, sipping on a glass of water to go along with it. After finishing, I wiped the crumbs from my shirt and my lips, grabbed the plate and anything else I used, placing it at the counter. I lay a ten dollar bill next to it, and I was gone.

.......................................................

It had snowed the night before, so upon waking up and exiting the hollowed out tree I had laid to rest in, I was greeted with a frosty bite. The chilling wind nipped at my wet nose and the insides of my ears. I shook vigorously, trying to set free the leaves and ice and anything else that had found itself stuck to my fur. I let out a sigh and sat down, lifting a leg and cleaning. I always wanted to be clean, for reasons I couldn't fathom.

Upon finishing, I looked around at my surroundings. Everything was white. Everything. The branches of trees were weighted down by the mess. No grass peeked through the snow, bushes and hedges were barely seen. From what I could tell, there were no signs of life, either. Everyone was either in hibernation, or too lazy to face the cold on this morning.

I began to run. Nowhere in particular. I was just sure to leave the town I had left the day before behind me. Whatever I found before me, I would be happy to give it a chance. I kept running, bounding through snow, sometimes feeling slightly playful, so I would role around in a slosh of white, or pounce over the top of a mound. I always found a way to pass the time on my own.

After moments of this fun, I realized that my black coat was easily seen against the glaring white of the environment, so I figured it would be best to just keep moving for now, just in case. So I picked up a trot. The air was so thin and clean, that every time I took a deep breath, my lungs filled and felt completely rejuvenated. If these wolf lips could smile, I sure as hell would be showing how content I was feeling at this moment.

But that moment was lost just as quickly as it came. I was stopped, dead in my tracks. I can't explain what the feeling was, all except for the sound. That sound was by far the most frightening thing I had ever come to know. All it was was a loud crack. It was loud enough that birds, miles away, jumped from their safe havens and scattered about. I could hear the frantic pattering of their wings as they flew off in all different directions. It was loud enough that the ground almost seemed to shake. Just... CRACK!

I knew what it was, but I didn't know where. I was in too much shock. Then I realized... I'm not in pain. I didn't get hit.

I didn't even care if whoever it was that owned that gun knew I was present, I just ran. Away from that sound. As far as I could get from it. I also knew that I was approaching the interstate. But I didn't care. I could just hitch a ride if need be. I ran as the wolf, because I was faster on four legs. I just ran. But then, there was pain.

I tried to scream, but there was nothing but a blood curdling growl, followed by a pain stricken howl. I tried to cry, but I couldn't. I tried to comprehend what was going on, but I couldn't. It was my leg. It was in immense pain. I tried to run again, but I couldn't. I was stuck, and it just hurt my leg even more. It felt like it was being torn off. I calmed for a moment to look down, but this just made me lose it even more. It was a bear trap, it's jaws locked around my left front leg. Seeing this brutal device made me lose my grip on reality. I lost all human prospect. I was running on pure animal instinct now.

I pulled and I shook, and it tore and it ripped. It felt like my muscles themselves were getting plucked from my bones. I bore my teeth into my leg around the device, trying anything to slip out. What I hadn't realized was that I had pulled this contraption to it's full chain length. The chain length reached the interstate. I didn't feel the icy asphalt beneath my paws. I didn't hear the engine of the old truck, puttering down the street towards me. I didn't smell the burning oil, or the smoke of a cheap cigar. All that I cared about was that I was in pain, and that I couldn't get free.

But then, I heard the squeal of the tires as they hit a patch of ice and tried to avoid going into a skid.

I looked, and saw headlights.

And then darkness....


	2. Escaping the Storm

"So what's your name?" the man behind the bar questioned as he wiped the newly cleaned mugs with a dish towel, placing them back on the shelf as he finished.

"Logan" the other occupant of the room replied. He sat at the bar, bringing a bottle to his lips every other moment. The beer was cold, and it ran smooth down his throat.

The bartender cocked a brow as he eyed the mans dog tags strangely. Logan caught his gaze, snorted, and tucked them behind his shirt, taking another sip of his beer.

"Didn't mean no harm by it" the bartender admitted. "We just don't get much military folk 'round here."

Logan simply shrugged.

"So, you stayin' in town for a while?" the man asked.

"Not likely." Logan muttered.

With a nod, the bartender grabbed the last mug, wiped it dry and spotless, and placed it on the shelf. Logan killed off the last drop of beer and placed the empty bottle on the counter before him.

"Have another one?"

"Don't think so. I should be on my way." he answered, placing a bill beside the bottle and standing, slipping his leather jacket off of the seat to his right.

"That your truck out there?" The man behind the bar nodded his head toward the window, where an old white pick-up with red paneling was parked outside.

Logan nodded as he pulled his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.

"That'll just about do it" the man mumbled aloud. Upon reading Logan's confused expression, he finished "There's a storm comin'. Real bitch, they say. That truck looks like it can take a beating. I think you'll do just fine."

Logan let his mind wander for a second. "Thanks" he smirked, and was gone.

It was definitely much colder outside than before he had entered the bar. A slight breeze disturbed the quiet, shaking the leaves of surrounding trees and sounding a soft whistle as it hit metal. Logan stopped at his truck, pausing for a moment to let the tail end of the wind gather in his hair, lifting it from his neck to dance about. He reached into his pocket inside his jacket and pulled out a pudgy cigar, a quarter of it already smoked hours before. He placed it between his teeth, sucking the sweet taste from the leafy paper, and lit it by match. After unlocking his truck, he took his seat behind the wheel, started the engine, and drove, leaving the small woodland town behind.

Snow covered the edges of the road, enveloping the hills and roots of trees. The road was cleared for the most part, save for a few small patches of ice that were easily avoidable. Some managed to come unnoticed, finding their way beneath a tire, cause the truck to swerve a bit. But Logan had a fast reaction, and effortlessly guided the truck back to a straight path.

There was no traffic. Nothing before, nothing behind, and nothing passing in the other direction. It as as if no one existed but Logan. No sound but the rattling and puttering of his old truck. Just nothing.

Logan continued driving for a time he couldn't comprehend. There was no working clock on the dash, and he never wore a watch. All he knew was that the sun had crawled closer into the Western hemisphere. It had been a few hours, at least.

Glancing in his rear view mirror, he saw the black sky. Not because it was nearing night. No. It was that storm the man behind the bar spoke of. That bitch. It was indeed massive, the ominous clouds reaching the heavens, hovering above the mountains. It shadowed anything beneath it's mighty stretch, dooming any living thing caught off guard to a freezing agony. Logan sighed, and raised a brow, moving the cigar to the other side of his mouth.

A gun shot is heard in the distance. Logan payed no mind. This was the countryside. This was the wild. Any one who resided out here lived by different rules, and survived by their guns. That, or they were just dicking around and sending off bullets for no reason. Either way, it was of no concern. Logan was in the safety of his truck, and the source of the echo came from far away. He continued to drive.

Flecks of white began to fall, slowly and scarcely. Any that found a way to rest on the windshield were immediately liquefied. A slight fog crawled across the road. It was still easy to see, but this became like a blurring film against anything that was in front of the truck. Logan twisted the end of his turn indicator, signaling his windshield wipers to jolt across, just once, to wipe away the wet and dead bugs. That's when he saw the animal in the road.

He couldn't tell what exactly it was doing, but it wasn't paying attention to his truck barreling down the asphalt. He pressed softly on his brakes, keeping in mind to keep the vehicle in control in case this beast were to dart out in front of him. As he came closer, his eyes fixed on a black wolf, biting at its leg, shaking vigorously. He couldn't see why, but this made him blind to the patch of black ice. Without warning, his tire hit and went into a horrible skid, trying to find grip to the road beneath. Logan pumped on his brakes, and tried to turn the wheel, but there was no use. He was headed straight for the animal. Logan closed his eyes and gripped the steering at the last moment, missing the sight of the wolf looking up at his on-coming truck.

Logan's eye lids slowly opened, letting his eyes take in the tree before him. The tree that had stopped his truck, resting against the grill. He groaned, and rubbed his forehead, then gripped his hand into a fist, thrusting it into the dash. This left a large crack in the plastic. He shook his head and turned the key, removing it from the ignition and tossed it beside him. Upon remembering the wolf, he opened the door and stepped outside, peering hesitantly around the side of his truck. A figure lay in the snow off the side, close to twenty feet behind his truck. It was hard to see as the white blanket devoured most of the animal. From what he could tell, there was no movement, so he approached.

His brown eyes go dangerously wide when he comes to the body. He finds a woman lying in the snow, unconscious. Her long, black hair was strewn about her head, caked to her cheeks and strung about the white snow beneath. She lay naked, her face looking peaceful, as if she were only asleep. That's when Logan noticed her left arm. Around the elbow were the closed grips of a bear trap. Her flesh was torn and eaten by the device, blood pooling, melting the snow and almost blinding against the white.

Remembering the wolf again, Logan began to eye his surroundings, snapping his head around trying to find the animal. "What the hell?" he muttered aloud as he continued his search. He grew confused, and almost impatient, walking in slow circles, until peering down at the woman. He stared, frowning and furrowing his brow, snorting and grunting. Nothing made any sense at all in this situation, but he figured he would at least try and make the best of it. He knelt down beside her, reaching for her slender wrist of her right arm. He couldn't feel anything, so he began to lower his head to her chest. He stopped, noticing a large scar, spreading from the top of her left breast towards the center of her sternum. He furrowed his brow once more, and lowered his ear. There was a heartbeat. Dangerously faint, but it was there.

Logan carried her naked body to the truck after prying the jaws of the trap open to release her tattered arm. He struggled to open the passenger door, nearly dropping her once. The old metal creaked and screamed as he pulled, the hinges being rusted. He set her neatly down on the seat and quickly rummaged through the back. After tearing apart his bags and pushing everything to one side, he pulled free a large wool blanket and returned to the woman. He wrapped her in the blanket, covering all exposed skin but her face, gathered her in his arms once more, and lay her down across the back seat, using his belongings as a pillow for her head. He watched her for a moment, noticing it didn't even seem she was breathing, and shut the door.

The storm was growing nearby, threatening to take hold of the sun-kissed sky above within the hour. Logan grunted up towards the clouds as if to tell them to go away and climbed into his truck. He silently told his truck to start, praising it and hoping that the tree hadn't done too much damage. He turned the key, and the engine sputtered. It was trying to turn over, but after four tries, it wouldn't give. Logan growled and thrashed against the steering wheel before glancing back at the unconscious woman curled up in his backseat. He turned his attention back to the machine, rolled his eyes before squeezing his lids shut while he gripped the key and turned. He held on for a moment, hearing the engine turn over and over, until finally, a roar echoed through the forest. A sigh of relief escaped from Logan's lips and his shoulders slumped as he relaxed. He leaned back in the seat, backed up from the grip of the tree bark, and headed off down the road again.

Logan glared at every sign on the side of the street, waiting to read the gracious words telling him a town was nearby. His saving grace. Finally, after however long it was that he drove, there it was. Shining green with white lettering. Only sixteen miles, and to the right. He grins and continues on, leaving the storm behind to catch up to them later.

By the time he reaches the town, his truck loud and roaring, it is growing dark. The sun was just about to embrace the horizon. That clearly was not the source of this sudden dimming of light. Sure enough, the tempest was hot on his tail, and without a pause or even a sounds, it gradually progressed. The fury above was frightening, patiently advancing, not making a single sound. Not even a warning thunder clap. There was no flash of lightning to be seen. No gust of wind coming forth to tell of it's predecessor. Only nothing but the darkness creeping in, swallowing everything whole.

Logan parked behind a barn that was seen off to the side of the road. He figured he didn't have enough in his pockets to pay for a room at a motel, so settling for this shelter, out of sight, was his only good idea. Before pulling to a stop, he had scoured his surroundings, taking heed that there was no living soul to be found. No person, no animal, nothing. The barn looked almost run down, as if it hadn't been used in ages. This was the perfect hiding place until he could figure out what to do with this woman. Maybe take her into town tomorrow? After the storm has cleared?

He jumps out of the truck, taking in the scent of the approaching storm. He peers in through the window to the backseat to look at the woman, then walks towards an entrance to the building. Cautiously, he observes the wooden door, cocking a brow at the decayed wood. He steps forward, reaching a hand for the old brass handle. The cold surface bites at his skin while his hand grips, and he yanks hard. The door opening sent a shudder through the old wood, sounding as if the barn would collapse at any moment. But that would be a risk he was willing to take.

"Can I help you?" a demanding voice was heard from behind.

Logan was caught off guard, and this caused him to tense, sending three metal claws to each hand ripping from his knuckles. He turned fast with a low growl to face a woman. Mid-forties, he immediately guessed. She was pretty in a different way, but this wasn't something that mattered at the moment. The look of sheer horror cloaked her face, but within moments, she just grew uncomfortable, as if the sight before her weren't all that abnormal.

"Can I help you?" she repeated, almost in a whisper this time. Her eyes remained fixed on the blades that protruded from his fists.

Logan stuttered, and tried to relax, pulling his extensions back in through his knuckles. He was at a loss for words, and fought for how to explain.

"You're not from around here, are you?" she asked, calming more with every second.

His brow flexed as he looked at her strangely. She was taking this all too well, but he answered any way. "No, just passing through. But..." he paused and walked slowly to his truck, glancing at the back window "I have someone. She needs help."

The woman took a deep breath, thinking for a moment and watching the man before her with curiosity. She exhaled slowly "What happened?"

"An accident" he simply replied.

She cocked a brow at him and stepped towards the vehicle, still skeptical of Logan. She leaned over and looked through the window. "Is she breathing?" she asked upon noticing that the woman inside appeared motionless.

"Barely" Logan whispered.

"I have an empty room back at my house, if you wish to use it. I can take a look at her. I happen to be a mistress of herbal remedies." she grinned and looked to Logan.

"I don't have any money..."

"That doesn't matter. Just drive further down the road, about half a mile. You'll see a mailbox with yellow paint that's chipping to the bones." she ordered. She then walked back and climbed into a small car that Logan hadn't even noticed was there before. "I'll see you there" she finished as she passed by his truck.

Logan turned into the driveway after the old yellow mailbox and faced a beautiful cabin. He parked, killed the rumbling engine and stepped out, closing the door behind him. He pulled open the back and gathered the raven-haired woman into his arms and carried her to the door of the home whichwas held open by the woman who had directed him there. He nodded, and she smiled in return.

"I've been living up here alone for years now, without a visit for at least three months, so it'll be nice to have company for as long as you need to stay." she spoke as she lead Logan up the stairs and to a room at the end of a wide hallway.

Logan entered and carefully placed his precious load on the bed, positioning her head on the quilted pillows. He watched her for a moment, then turned to face the woman. "Why are you helping us? I mean, normally I don't get this sort of kindness. Especially at first glance..."

The woman held up her hand to stop him. "I know your kind" she stated then turned, nodding her head for Logan to follow.


	3. A Certain Kind

"_My _kind?" Logan paused outside of the bedroom door, putting emphasis on the word 'my'.

The woman turned at the head of the stairs and raised a brow at the tensing man. "Yes" she stated bluntly. "Now come downstairs into the kitchen. I'll make some tea."

Logan watched as she descended the steps, grinding his teeth. He peered into the bedroom one last time to watch the sleeping figure of the woman he had brought. Letting out a sigh, he closed the door quietly and followed the trail left by the womans scent to the kitchen.

Walking downstairs was slightly arduous. For most of the day, Logan had been running on adrenaline, what with carrying some unconscious broad around and fighting off the cold. But now that the day was pulling away fast, the aches in his muscles and joints were catching up to him. With every step, it slithered up each vertebrae until it reached his neck, and then down to his shoulders. Turning his head, he was able to sustain a small crack, relieving some of the pressure, but it wasn't enough. By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, he could feel a headache coming on.

"I fear I have forgotten my manners." she spoke as she rummaged through her spice cabinet, pulling down various containers and vials. She stopped for a moment to look at Logan as he lingered by the fridge. "My name is Gertrude." she went back to searching. "You can call me Trudy, whatever you like."

"Logan" he stated.

"Logan" she repeated and closed the doors of the cabinet, turning to spill the contents in her arms she had gathered onto the counter top of the island in the center of the kitchen. She caught Logan's eye and smiled "I like that."

Logan's mouth twitched into a half grin. He walked to the bar side of the island, across from the woman, and sat down on one of the stools. He watched in silence as the woman gathered measuring spoons and a knife meant for dicing.

"Do you mind telling me what I want to know?" Logan broke the quiet. Gertrude paused to listen, but her eyes remained on the counter. "I'm just curious about this hospitality."

Gertrude nodded and smiled, looking up and resting her eyes on Logan.

"I mean" he continued, "you say you know what I am, supposedly. I would think that would give all the more reason for you to want to shoot me and get me gone, unless..."

The woman held up her hand and stopped him. "I'm not an avid watcher of the news, but I have caught enough to know what is going on outside of my little country town." she went back to crushing mint leaves and Logan listened for more. "I'm the type of person who likes to decide for myself. If you're a dangerous man with no remorse who doesn't deserve a chance..." she said, shaking the knife at him, "I'll figure it out on my own." she finished with a smirk.

Logan was taken back. He was impressed by her strong will and open mind.

"To set things straight," her voice darkened. "I'm not saying that I'm not afraid of you."

Logan bowed his head and snorted. "You wouldn't be the only one" he muttered.

"Now dear, don't worry about that." she smiled, waltzing to the stove where the teapot screamed. She removed the boiling water from the stove top and set it on an oven mitt beside her ingredients. She measured out a few scoops of whatever it was that she had created, dumped them in a large coffee mug, and followed it with the hot liquid. "Have some of Trudy's famous tea." she smiled warmly and slid the steaming cup towards Logan.

"You wouldn't happen to have a beer instead?"

"Never drink the stuff." she admitted, looking slightly offended. "Just sip on this. It will get rid of any aches yo may have. And you will certainly feel relaxed."

Logan subtly rolled his eyes, but he brought the mug to his face regardless. It's smell was spicy, catching him slightly off guard. It reminded him of the winter holidays that most people celebrated. The one's that would fill the streets with the smell of baked apples and cinnamon, honey roasted hams, potatoes drowned in butter and herbs, berries and sugar, and a slight hint of graham crackers...

Logan shook his head to rid of his thought. One sniff of the tea had sent his mind spiraling into nasal hallucinations, accompanied by blurred memories. Back to reality within a flash, he shot Gertrude a strange look. She simply chuckled and poured another glass. Logan blew at the edge of the mug, sending ripples across the surface of the tea to let it cool a bit, and took a sip.

Gertrude watched as every muscle relaxed and his chest sunk as a long, refreshed sigh escaped his lips, following the mug as he lowered it. Logan's headache immediately vanished and every pain throughout his body was gone.

He cocked a brow at the drink, and with the same estranged look, he fixed his gaze back on the woman.

"So what about you?"

"What about me?" she asked innocently, taking a swig from her own drink.

"Are you..." Logan paused to look at the drink again, extending his index finger to point at the tea, then to Gertrude. "Is this... are you..."

"Oh, no, no no." She laughed. "I'm no like you. I just spent two years living with a native tribe a few counties over. The witch doctor took a liking to me, and after earning his trust, he taught me his practice. Hence, the mistress of herbal remedies." she smiled, referring back to their conversation a the barn.

Logan nodded, shrugging his shoulders.

"What about the girl?" Gertrude asked.

"I've never even met her."

"Well, then how did..."

"I hit her with my truck." Logan interrupted, waving his hand in the air as if it were nothing. Upon looking up and reading the horrified expression on Gertrude's face, he realized that some explanation was necessary. "At least I think I did... I don't know."

Gertrude watched Logan as he struggled with the internal battle of confusion. "How could you not know?"

"I don't know. I swear on my own two eyes, I hit a dog – or something. It looked like a black wolf." he explained. "But when I got out of the truck, there she was... " Logan paused, his face contorting as he looked flustered. "Just lying naked and unconscious, bleeding in the road."

"Hmm..." Gertrude thought aloud.

"And that wolf was nowhere in sight." He finished.

"That is very strange, indeed." Gertrude whispered, her fingers circling the rim of her coffee mug.

Logan raised his brow and nodded in agreement.

"When I get her awake and coherent, we can figure this all out." She smiled, a twinkle in her eye. She then began to pout another cup of tea, placing the third mug on a small brass platter. To accompany it, she settled a bowl of something jelly-like beside the tea.

This substance tickled Logan's nose, reeking of celery and radishes, along with what he could only think to be spearmint. His lip curled in disgust and he let out a snort, trying to free his nostrils of the stink.

"What if you can't help her? What if she doesn't wake up?" he asked skeptically.

"Oh dear, I have a few tricks left up these sleeves." she answered with a smirk. "And, if I can't help, as long as she still manages to have a heartbeat, we can drive her down to the hospital on the North end of the range."

With that, Gertrude balanced the tray and it's contents in her arms and walked out of the kitchen towards the stairs. Logan lifted himself from the stool and began to follow.

"Oh no you don't" she turned and glared at him. "You stay down here and keep yourself busy. I'm going to dip the poor girl in a warm bath and get some clothes on her."

Logan rolled his eyes. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen anything. It was hard not to. With a huff, he watched Gertrude carefully make her way up the stairs, then disappear down the hall. He then remembered a precious item that remained outside in his truck, and quickly made his way to the front of the house, opening the door. The cold rushed in, wrapping around Logan and sending shivers throughout his entire body, standing every hair on end. He shivered for a second, but decided to brave the storm and make a break for his truck.

He had hit the dashboard so hard earlier in the day from his frustration that the lock on the glove box refused to open. Logan sat in his truck, wrestling with the contraption for a moment until he grew impatient. The sound of metal sliding against metal rang through the vehicle as he sent out his three claws from his right hand. They caught the light from the front porch and gleamed against the darkness that couldn't be touched by that single glow. With one quick movement, Logan had torn open the compartment and reached in, retrieving another cigar. This one was fresh. Never been smoked. He placed the butt between his back teeth, biting down and letting the juices of the natural tobacco soak into his gums. He rummaged through the compartment again, this time bringing out a book of matches. After a few strikes, a flame burst from the slender wood and danced in the wind before it was sucked through the other end of his cigar.

Logan remained in his truck for some time, the doors closed and the windows cracked, so as to not create a smoke chamber where taking a breath would be nearly impossible. He watched the smoke snake it's way from his mouth to the inch of open space between the glass and the metal frame of the door, disappearing as it hit the cold outside. Snow was falling silently about, slowly piling up on his hood and along the edges of the windows, fogging the glass. The cold nipped at his face, numbing his cheeks and the tip of his nose. He continued to suck on his cigar, occasionally releasing it from his lips to send the ashes to their death on the floor of his truck.

His mind crawled to the woman he had hit. Or whatever it was that he hit. All that he knew was he had picked up some passed out chick who barely had a pulse, and that he felt it was his burden to stick around. At least until he knew what would become of her. Whether she would wake up or...

Her face came to mind. He couldn't remember what she looked like. In all honesty, he wasn't paying much attention. She was nude, after all. He remembered her raven hair, and her pale skin. He remembered the blood pooling, a deep crimson red. She was slender, he remembered that. Mostly because of how easy it was to carry her limp body around. Her muscles toned, and her breasts were more than dainty. And firm. Or at least they looked it.

His head shook and a shudder crept across his shoulders as he tried to rid his mind of these thoughts. He tried to remember her face. He thought she was beautiful... or maybe not. Her eyes were closed, and she wasn't moving. How could one tell from a lifeless form? His mind averted back to her body after confirming that there would be no answer toward her beauty for the time. He remembered the scar above her breast. It looked unpleasant, and it looked like it would have induced an immense amount of pain, before it sealed up to become a permanent reminder of it's cause. It was also fairly old, considering it's faded coloring.

Logan's thoughts were stolen quickly by the back of his mind when he heard a voice call his name. It was Gertrude. She was back downstairs, and she was looking for him. Logan sighed, and eyed the cigar that sat in his fingers. He turned it and stabbed it into his arm, the smell of burning flesh filling the cab of his truck. He winced in pain as he snuffed the embers of the tobacco on his skin. The smoke thinned until there was none, and he removed the cooling object and slid it into his pocket while the skin that was burning began to shift. Within a moment, it was healed. Completely, as if he hadn't even skimmed the surface with the hot cherry.

Logan exited his truck after grabbing his bags, embracing the cold once more, and headed back to the house. Sleep sounded like the greatest idea at this point, especially in a real bed. A smile slid across his lips as he entered the home, nothing but rest on his mind.


	4. The Awakening

**A series of groans escaped her chapped lips. Her face tightened as she strained every muscle, looking very uncomfortable, twisting and turning slightly about. Her eye lids fluttered as her eyes shifted behind them, her long black eyelashes glittering as they caught the few strands of sunlight that streamed in through the window. Her slender fingers twitched until she finally grasped the quilt in her fists, pulling it up to her chin and turning to her side. And she lay silent for another moment, letting her body sink into the soft mattress. A long, relaxed sigh exited silently. The only proof of it's existence was her rib cage lowering beneath the bedsheets, and a look of peace washed her face.**

_'This is so comfortable... So cool...'_

**What were once groans now became soft moans as she nuzzles her nose into the pillows.**

_'I haven't felt this good for, well, I can't even remember...'_

**There is movement beneath the bedsheets as she slides her feet from one end to the other, soaking the coolness from the sheets through her skin, a smile now tugging at her lips.**

_'And this smell... it's so... clean...'_

**Silence again, and the lack of movement. She lay still breathing through her nose, her head molded into the feather pillows.**

_'These sheets are so soft. They must be some sort of cotton... And these pillows, ugh! Jesus! This bed is heavenly!'_

_'Wait... Bed?'_

I shot up immediately, gasping for air as if I had been underwater for as long as I could hold my breath. _'Where the fuck am I?' _I eyed the room strangely, not finding anything familiar. Not the bed I had been sleeping in, the furniture lining the room, old paintings hung on the walls, the country style drapes covering the windows, nothing. _'Did I get a hotel room last night?'_

My arm suddenly began to throb, followed by my head and almost my entire body. "Fuck!" I shouted, holding my left arm as close to my chest as I could and pressing my thumb of my right hand against my temple, trying to fight the pain. When I got my breathing under control, I decided to inspect my arm, only to become even more puzzled.

My arm was wrapped in gauze, blood seeping through to the outer layer. It was dry, but this was still alarming. I felt around my head, and felt another patch of gauze, taped down above my right ear.

_'What in the hell is going on?' _I repeated to myself.

I decided to unwrap the bandage from around my arm to see more clearly what I was dealing with, only to be utterly disgusted. I had to quickly swallow and keep myself from vomiting. Upon regaining composure, I took another look. Catching my breath, I let my eyes rest on a shattered bone peeking through my skin. Actually no, I lied. Not my skin. It was peering at me through torn muscle and ligaments. Severed veins appeared as strings against the mess, and my pink skin was folded back, ripped and lacerated savagely. My arm was completely mangled, appearing as if it were the hopeful snack of a rabid animal.

Suddenly, everything came rushing back. _'I was running. And then there was a gunshot. I ran faster, towards the interstate, but I was stopped. The bear trap. I couldn't get myself out... I can't remember anything after that...' _

No matter how hard I tried, I could not pull any recollection from my memory as to what had happened, and especially as to how in the hell I got here. This frightened me even more. But I needed to focus at this moment.

I clutched my arm and held it to my chest, lowering my head and closing my eyes, focusing all of my energy and concentration on my wounded limb. My breathing slowed, almost to nothing, and I felt all of my blood rushing, picking up pace with every second. After a few moments in my own silence, I lifted my head to gaze at my arm again. It looked as if nothing had even happened. No scar, nothing. My pink skin enveloped my arm like it should. The pain remained, however, just like any other time I have had to heal myself. That would take days to completely dissipate. I focused on my head, then my ribs which I figured were cracked or bruised considering the amount of pain they released. After everything was returned to the way it should be, I decided I needed to find a way out of here.

With one of the grey cotton sheets wrapped around my body, I searched for some form of clothing. Anything to get on to aid me in my escape. I headed to a dark-stained armoir and opened the doors. There were linens and tapestries hanging from the rod. I filed through each article until I reached a long, white silk robe. _'This will do.' _

I let the sheet drop from my body and I quickly pulled my arms through the sleeves of the robe. It reached down to the middle of my shins, and the sleeves ended just before my wrists. _'Perfect fit' _I grinned down at the intricate cloth that now covered my body.

"You're awake." I heard a woman's voice speak behind me.

I was caught off guard, and surprised that I didn't hear the door open, or even her footsteps as she approached the room. I spun around fast, crouching low, ready to spring if need be. An older woman stood in the doorway a few inches shorter than myself and a little heavier set, carrying a tray with more of those gauze bandages, fresh, and ointments. "Who in the hell are you?" I growled.

"You can call me Trudy" she smiled and placed the tray on the bed. "It's good to see you up. You've been out for nearly a day, at least. How is your..."

I cut her off. "I don't know where in the hell I am or how I got here. All I do know is that I want out." I started towards the door.

"Now dear, calm down. I'm not going to harm you." she tried to reassure, but I wasn't having any of it. She then took a step towards me as I tried to get by.

"Stay out of my way." I warned in a low grumble.

"Let me just take a look at your arm" she spoke, remaining calm, and reached for me.

"Don't fucking touch me." I threatened.

Her expression changed as if she were offended. She clasped a hand around my arm. "Dear, there is no need for..."

But she wasn't able to finish. I doubled over, adrenaline raging through my veins. My bones shifted and my skin separated, black hairs slithering from every pore. My mouth became wet as I began to salivate, and my fingers curled under the palm of my hand as my entire structure shifted. A low growl rolled from my throat and over my tongue and I stood on all fours, glaring at the woman who now stood a little taller than me. Her eyes were alarmingly wide and her jaw had dropped to it's full extent, her lips parted in shock. She was already frightened, but that wasn't enough for me.

She let out a scream when I lunged at her, pushing her shoulders down to the floor where I pinned her. My nose was inches from her cheek, and I stared her in the eyes, snarling dangerously as if to warn her. Thick saliva dripped onto her skin as my lips curled into a growl. She closed her eyes tightly and braced herself for the worst. Now, I had had enough.

I ran at full speed out of the bedroom, instantly sliding on the hard wood flooring beneath my paws. I slammed against the wall hard, and tried to regain my grip with my claws, scraping and ripping at the wood. My shoulders strained and worked hard to get my body back to moving. I threw my head back and forth, studying my surroundings, trying to figure which way was out. I saw the head of the stairs and sprinted, instantly getting a whiff of another animal in the house. But not just any other animal. It was different, something I had never come to smell before. It was male, that I could figure, and feral. This thought caused another menacing snarl to rip from my throat as I raced down the steps.

A familiar smell slowly captivated my nostrils and filled my lungs with a strong sensation, the want to cough or gag. Cheap cigars. I remember that scent now, just before I blacked out. And that other scent, the feral male, was getting stronger as I moved.

I stopped when I reached the bottom of the steps, my nose up, nostrils flaring, letting the air in the home bring to me any information I could use. I proceeded with caution, keeping my head low, letting my ears and nose do the dirty work for me. I heard heavy footsteps down the hall to my right, a fast pace, and they were nearing. That odor that clung to the air stung at my nose, growing heavier and more distinct. I stooped down low, readying myself for what may come.

A man appeared around the corner. He was tall and husky, his broad shoulders ripping from the white muscle shirt that clung to his chiseled torso. He was hairy, like an animal, and his fists were clenched while he stared down at me, his brow raised. "What the hell?" he continued to stare at me.

A sound erupted from my throat, sounding as a low, threatening growl as I lowered my body slightly more, my hind legs bent and tensing, prepared for leaping. My lips curled, revealing deadly sharp teeth, glistening white against my black fur.

The man growled back and grunted, throwing his arms down to his sides, fists still clenched. With a _chink_, three foot-long metal blades shot through his knuckles on each hand, resembling claws. A smirk played on his lips as he fixed himself into a ready stance.

_'If these wolf-lips could smile...'_ I thought to myself, pushing against the floor with my back feet, heading at full speed towards the man who was much larger than even my human form. I barked and snarled, driveling at the mouth, not even thinking twice about the impending danger of those metal claws. Nothing scared me. Nothing.

I noticed that his muscles tensed, and he got ready to swing, but I was too fast for him. With one swift push of my back legs, I bounded upward, jaws open, targeting his throat. And my, was my aim perfect. I felt skin, and I quickly snapped my jaws, sinking my teeth into his jugular, and forced him to fall back onto the floor. He lay beneath me, clutching tufts of my fur and trying to pull, but to no avail. He sunk his claws into my side, but still, I refused to budge. I tore at his throat, sinking my teeth further and further into his flesh, waiting to feel his neck snap within my jowls. Rather than feeling bone, my teeth were stung with cold. A shiver was sent through my entire body as my teeth made contact with metal. Well, more like my teeth crashed against metal, causing some to break and others to crack. I loosened my grip around his neck and hesitated, confused.

My thoughts were quickly interrupted by a loud, ear-piercing sound. A gunshot. I immediately jumped in fright, my tail tucking between my legs as I spun around to view the older woman standing before us, a shot gun in her hands, pointed at the ceiling which had just been redecorated with a gaping hole.

"**What is the matter with the two of you?" Gertrude shouted, clenching a shot gun in her arms. "Acting like savage beasts!" **

**Logan immediately grabbed at his throat after the canine was no longer pinning him. Blood ran down the front of his shirt, and his skin was torn to pieces as if someone had tried to stick a meat grinder to him. Slivers of gleaming metal could be seen under his torn flesh, but only for moments until his neck rippled and shifted, quickly healing itself. He gasped for air and shot a glare at the black wolf whose eyes remained fixed on Gertrude and the gun. **

**Gertrude stared at the animal. A black wolf stood before her, head low, crouching as if it were in fear. It's eyes watched the gun vigilantly. Gertrude let a sigh. "If you promise to behave, I will put this away." she referred to the shot gun as she kept her eyes on the wolf. She cocked her brow and slowly brought the weapon down to her side, bending down to place it on the floor behind the couch. **

**The wolf remained anchored to the same spot in the same position. Logan stood and retracted his claws, then dusted off his pants and groaned when he viewed his blood-stained shirt. He rolled his eyes and looked down at the animal. He noticed that on its chest, a patch of white fur rested in the same shape and what would be the same position, considering the anatomy, of the woman he had brought here. This caused him to raise a brow, until he looked back to Gertrude. **

"**I'm sorry Trudy. I didn't really have any other choice." Logan grumbled. **

"**I don't want to hear it, Logan." the woman shook her head. "The girl is obviously petrified." Her attention reverted to the wolf and she tutted. "Now dear... I don't know how this works but... well, it's kind of hard to talk to you when you're, well, not human." **

**The wolf seemed to hesitate, her head pricking to the side as if she were studying the woman before her. She turned slowly, keeping her eyes on the other occupants of the room as she stalked towards a large recliner where a crocheted afghan was folded upon. The animal slipped behind the chair, and within an instant, a hand reached over the back of the chair and grabbed the blanket. The woman with black hair emerged from behind the chair as she rapped herself in the blanket, protecting her naked body from these stranger's eyes. **

"**Much better." Gertrude smiled, seemingly regaining her patience. "Now, mind if we try this again?" **

**The woman averted her attention back and forth between the brawny man and the older woman. The expression on her face was dubious. She was certainly frightened, and confused. She just simply stared. **

"**My name is Trudy." Gertrude continued. "And this here is Logan." **

**Logan sat in silence, staring back at the woman. She was positively beautiful and stunning, like nothing he had ever seen before. He also stared because he was frightened of her as well. In all his years, at least those that he could remember, he had never come across someone so... different. Whatever she was. **

**The woman returned Logan's gaze, looking at him with almost the same thoughts. Gertrude cleared her throat, bringing her attention back. She raised a brow, waiting for an answer. **

"**My name is Adonia." the woman stated quietly. "Adonia Quinn." **

"**Adonia?" Gertrude repeated. "That is a beautiful name." **

**Adonia nodded and attempted a smile. She just looked nervous. **

"**Now, let's see if we can settle all of this. I will tell you right now... Dear! You're bleeding!" Gertrude's train of thought was lost when she noticed a deep crimson soaking through her afghan from Adonia's right side. **

**The young woman looked down and examined the damage. "Oh, I'm fine." she stated casually. "No need to worry." **

"**Let me take a look at it." Gertrude advanced which caused Adonia to take a step back.**

"**No, really, I'm fine." she held up her hand to stop the woman. She then took the same hand and held her bleeding side, closing her eyes, a look of concentration washing over her face. She took a deep breath, and after exhaling slowly, she dropped her hand to her side, and the blood stopped soaking into the blanket. **

**Logan stared at the woman in amazement. There was more to this Adonia than he thought. **


	5. A Similar Specimen

**Hello there! I just wanted to put a little note up to say thanks to everyone who has added, favorited, and reviewed my story! It means a lot! **

**I highly appreciate reviews, and I respect all opinions as long as they aren't outlandish or uncalled for. So, whenever you are done reading, please review! I'd really enjoy knowing what you all think! :)**

I stared at the strange woman who called herself Trudy, her eyes glued to my side which was bleeding moments before. The afghan I had wrapped around my naked body was now stained crimson red.

"Well, now that you are all..." Trudy waved her hand towards me as her thoughts tried to gather words. "well, whatever you are... I need to lay down some rules."

This was slightly alarming to me. 'Rules'?

"That is if you decide you want to stay here, in my house, for the time being?" Trudy obviously caught the confused expression on my face.

"I have no idea who in the hell you are" I raised a brow. "So I'd appreciate it if you could be so kind as to explain what is going on, and particularly how I got here."

"I think Logan here can explain better than myself." The woman gestured towards the man I had jumped earlier.

With a huff, this Logan cracked his neck and walked to the other side of the room, turning to lean against the wall. Seems he would rather listen than take any part.

Trudy sighed and rolled her eyes at the man, then averted her attention back to me. "I can do my best then, dear. All that I know is Logan brought you here, only yesterday. You were in terrible condition, and I wanted to help, so I fixed up some tea and ointments. I dressed your wounds, dipped you in a hot bath..."

Trudy paused when she noticed that I gripped the blanket closer, almost shuddering at the fact that some stranger had handled my nude and unconscious self. My eyes darted towards the gruff man in the corner, and I shuddered again, feeling even more upset.

"No worries, Adonia. He stayed downstairs the whole time." Trudy advanced forward to try and calm my nerves. "The bath was necessary. It was freezing out, and I had no idea as to how long you had been out there. And please, don't take this in any offense, but you didn't exactly carry the scent of a rose."

I grunted and raised another brow at the woman. I let it go quickly, however. She had no idea how long it had been since I've had the luxury of a real shower, with shampoo and everything. Years, at least. She was only honest.

Trudy shook her head and continued. "None of that matters, anyhow. All that I know, is that you and Logan arrived yesterday. He knows nothing of you, nor you of him. And it's the same with me. I offered my hospitality for the chance to get out of this storm, and you are welcome to stay for as long as you need."

I stared at the floor for what felt like an eternity. So many thoughts crowded my mind, until I finally reached a decision. I cleared my throat, and brought my eyes to Trudy. "I will stay, but as soon as the sun is shining, I'm gone."

Trudy nodded. "that's fine by me, dear. But for the remainder of your stay, there will be rules. Now..."

"Mind if I get dressed first?" I interrupted. "I'm not exactly feeling appropriate. That is, if you have anything I could borrow."

"Of course." Trudy smiled. "You can run upstairs and throw on that robe I caught you in earlier. We'll find you something more fitting later on."

I flashed a crooked smile and darted towards the steps, clinging for dear life at the blanket to keep it from falling. I trailed back to the room I had woken up in and found the article lying on the floor. I picked up the robe up and examined it. No tears or rips. That's nearly a first. I let the blanket drop and I wrapped my body in the silk again, instantly feeling more comfortable, and headed out the door towards the stairs.

I felt the man's eyes on me as I took each step down, and I could hear his heart pick up a slight pace. This almost caused me to slip out a chuckle, but I kept my composure and walked to the couch, taking a seat. I was all ears now.

"Now first, I will not tolerate animalistic behavior in my home." Trudy started. "Adonia, I know you were frightened and confused, but as far as I know, Logan saved your life. There is no need for aggression."

"Saved my life?" I let it slip with a scoff. "Not likely."

"I will also not tolerate smart-asses." Trudy glared at me sternly. I just nodded for her to continue. Logan grunted behind me.

"If I ask you to do something, do it. I know your stay may not be long, Adonia, but I could use the help while you're here. Same goes for you, Logan." Trudy's gaze shot back and forth. "I will not ask much, but if you want to be fed, the use of the shower, and the comfort of a warm bed, there will be chores. Besides that, you have free roam. Just steer clear of my bedroom, and try to have a positive attitude." She finished with a smile.

I felt almost like I were child. I couldn't remember the last time I had guidelines to follow, and I definitely couldn't remember the last time I had a home to stay in for more than a day. There was at least one plus. I heard Logan shift behind me, and I turned my head to watch from my peripheral vision.

His jeans fit snuggly around his muscular legs. I could tell they were once blue, but were now stained with dirt and grime. They were almost brown, but I could smell the sweet scent of old dryer sheets, so I knew they were recently cleaned. He adorned a white muscle shirt that wrapped around his torso, clinging against his skin and showing off the curves of his abdomen and pectorals. His large arms folded across his chest, the muscles tight and strong. His jaw line and chin were covered in stubble and facial hair. All in all, he was handsome, and ruggedly sexy. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen a man that caught my eye in this way.

I hadn't noticed the smirk playing on my lips until I caught his eyes which were staring right back down at me. I snorted and turned to look away. How embarrassing. But that didn't bother me. Again, it had been a long time since I had something to watch that was easy on the eyes. I did, however, think that he may well be attractive, but I could tell I wasn't going to like him one bit. There was something I couldn't quite place a finger on. Right off the bat, I could sense his cocky attitude, which I hate, but there was something else.

"Logan has already gotten a tour, and a feel for how this house runs." Trudy spoke. "Logan, I would appreciate it if you could show Adonia around."

"I'm fine, thank you." I answered quickly. "I'll eventually find my way. Again, I'm hoping my stay won't be for long..."

"Suit yourself." Trudy grinned. "I would like to take a look at your side, however."

"No, I'm fine. Really." I assured.

Trudy advanced. "I insist, dear." she smiled.

She stood at the end of the couch, waiting, so I stood and untied the sash on the robe, letting out a slightly annoyed sigh. I adjusted the fabric and held my arms in a fashion to cover my chest and my lower regions, bringing one side of the robe off to the side to reveal my bare ribcage. The area which had been bleeding profusely earlier was dry and showed no marks. There was not a single scratch or scar. Trudy leaned close and examined my skin as she furrowed her eyebrows. An uncomfortable smirk slid across my face, and I turned to look at Logan whose eyes I couldn't catch. They moved slowly as they took in the sight before them... my half-naked body. This caused my eyes to roll, and I quickly pulled the robe tight around, closing it off and tying the sash.

"Interesting." Trudy whispered. "Seems you two have a lot in common. Well, I have some paperwork to take care of upstairs. If you need anything, just shout for me." she grinned and disappeared up the steps.

When her footsteps could no longer be heard, there was nothing but silence. Nothing but the robotic thumping of Logan's heart and the sighing of the wood as it gave under his weight. My ears brought nothing exciting, so I let my nose do some work. I could smell multiple candles that were placed throughout the room. Most of which were light scents, like vanilla or lavender. The spices and herbs in the kitchen cabinets caused an array of different smells. Some were sweet and soft, while others were bitter and strong, causing my nose to twitch. I could smell vegetables and meats, such as ham and what I thought could be jerky. Berries, yeast, potatoes, cinnamon, cream, mushrooms, coffee, uncooked pasta, oatmeal... overall, it was a welcoming relief.

I was so busy and enthralled by the smells that I didn't hear Logan approach the couch, and I didn't hear or even feel the object beneath me shift as something heavy sat on the other end. I only realized Logan was sitting near me when I heard him sniffle. I turned fast and saw his nose twitch. Maybe he was getting the same sensation as me. The silence remained awkward as I sat, confused, staring at the man who seemed to not be as different from me.

"What are you looking at?" Logan grumbled without even looking up. His head hung low as he rubbed his brow with his hand.

"I'm just thinking." I whispered.

"About what?"

"Nothing, really. This is just strange. I'm a little confused."

More awkward silence. I hated silence when there were people around. I didn't mind being quiet and just listening, but if no one would initiate a conversation, I have to break the fine line.

"Sorry about your neck." I muttered.

"Don't worry about it." he replied as I imagined his eyes rolling behind me.

I turned to examine his throat. There was nothing. No marks, no sign of any damage, with the exception of the drying blood soaked down his shirt. It reminded me of the afghan that was now ruined, whereas my side which had bled was in perfect shape, as if foot-long metal claws had never come ripping through my rib cage.

"Now what are you looking at?" he asked impatiently.

"I just never knew there was any one else out there..." I paused, bringing my voice down to a whisper. "Like me. Well no, I knew. I've met some before. But it's been years since I've seen any one else… different."

Logan grunted. "You've got a lot to learn, kid."

"Don't call me kid." I snapped. "It's possible I could be older than you."

"I highly doubt that." Logan raised his brow, a confident gleam in his eyes.

I snorted and leaned back against the couch, throwing my head back to stare up at the ceiling. I heard Logan grind his teeth and crack his neck. He seemed to be stiff and uneasy, and obviously annoyed at the silence creeping in yet again.

"Adonia, is it?" I heard his voice.

I simply nodded, keeping my head rested on the crest of the sofa as my eyes scoured the wood of the ceiling.

"So, when did you find out?"

"About what?"

"That you were different?"

"What's it matter to you?" I grunted.

"It doesn't. I'm just not a fan of silence." he shot back.

"Looks like we have yet another thing in common." I smirked sarcastically.

Logan let out an anxious sigh and I heard him tap his thumb against his thigh. He shifted slightly in his seat, but my eyes remained fixed on the ceiling. I had no idea what was so interesting about appraising every knot and hair in the old wooden beams. All I knew was that it was keeping my attention, and I wasn't exactly used to this sort of human contact.

"So..." I heard. "How old are you?"

I snickered lightly. "Now that I'm definitely not telling you."

"Alright, suit yourself." Logan shrugged. "I'm just trying to be friendly."

"I don't need your kindness." I replied quietly. "I'm not exactly a people person, any way."

Logan leaned forward. "The feeling is mutual." he stood and began to walk forward. "Looks like we may be more alike than we think, kid."

"What was that?" I brought my head down and watched Logan's back as he walked.

"You heard me."

"Guess I wasn't clear on the name. I really don't like being called 'kid'." I snarled.

"Sorry, kid." he turned at the doorway. I could sense the audacious sarcasm dripping from his words.

"If you prefer your testicles to not be attached between your legs, then go ahead and continue to call me that." a warning accompanied by a growl. Quite menacing, if I do say so myself.

Logan chuckled. "Go ahead, she-wolf. Try me." He turned and walked out, not before I caught a glance at his ass encased behind those grungy jeans. It was an impressive sight, and this almost immediately calmed me down. I may not like the guy, bu I am still an animal. My instincts are much older and uncivilized, and if I'm not physically ravaging, my eyes will do the work for me.

And these 'nick-names'? It was utterly annoying. What happened to a first-name basis? You know, normality? Maybe even just a "hey you" would be fine by me. But 'kid'? And now 'she-wolf'? The last one was even worse. It was insulting, mostly due to his tone of voice as the words escaped his lips. She-wolf... Yeah, I'm not a fan of that pet name at all. It seemed this guy was going to be more trouble than I could even fathom, and an annoyance I would prefer to not need to deal with.

I shook the thoughts that were swarming my brain and lifted myself from the couch, headed towards the window. I pulled open the thick floral drapes, revealing a breath-taking sight. The sun was hidden behind the dark heavy clouds which were barely seen through a thick canopy of trees. With the suns light being filtered through grey sky and bundled foliage, a light blue aura hovered above the snow covered ground and sloped in the through the window, casting shadows against the hard wood floor. White flakes danced on the wind on the other side of the glass, and floated to their end as they made contact with the blanketed ground. The silver trunks of pines and willows stood like pillars, sprouting from the currently alabaster ground. Trying to focus as they drew further back, only within a few rows of trees, they softly disappeared and molded into the background as a heavy fog lurked about.

It looked like it would be more than freezing, but this was something I had grown accustomed to over many years. I let out a sigh as I figured I would leave this home within two days at most, whether this storm had moved on or not. I closed the curtains and turned towards the steps, clothing my body on my mind. I thought it would be fine to interrupt Trudy from her business to find something more fitting than a robe, so I took a step forward, followed by more as I reached the steps.

I stopped at the foot of the stairs when I felt another presence. I turned my head, keeping quiet, towards the opening to the kitchen and found Logan sitting at the island in the center. One foot was planted flat on the ground while the other was hooked by the heel on the rest of the stool. He hunched over the edge of the counter, his head hanging low and resting in his hands. He didn't exactly seem content or comfortable. He looked deep in thought and restless. I watched him for a moment, not sure if he knew of my curious eyes.

This uncultivated male was more than interesting for me. He was unlike any other specimen I had come to meet during my treks across who-knows-where. He was an animal, similar to me, and that is the only thing that kept me from writing him off completely. I still stand by my decision of not liking him. He was arrogant and self-righteous, much like myself, again. But there is only room for one of those, and I'll be damned if any one were to take that from me.

This woman, Trudy, I really could care less about. She was nice, I guess, but that doesn't get me far. I have had plenty of experience in different worlds, and this woman was just another human that I would leave behind when the time comes.

But there is something about this 'Logan'. He infuriated me easily, but he also peaked my interest when I didn't see it coming. Just blind-sided. My animal instincts were telling me something I would rather forget, while my every human thought was completely different. Luckily, I won't be sticking around for long to figure out anything more about this strange man.

Letting out a sigh, I turned and walked up the stairs, completely blind to Logan who had been watching me for a moment, studying me as I had done to him.


	6. A Haunting Past

**Hello! First, I want to give a special thanks to SuperNaturalPassion, Leaf, Ekaterin, Reige, Demeter1973, and Wolverette for all of the support and feedback! You all are amazing, and I keep writing for you!**

**I hope that everyone enjoys this chapter. It definitely does a lot of delving into the past. Gets a little tense, too. Well, Again, I hope you enjoy! Please review! I would ****love to hear what everyone thinks! **

* * *

"Good morning, dear." Trudy chimed as she entered the room. "Sleep well, I trust?"

"Yes, thank you." I turned to watch her place a tray on the bed as I remained curled up on the bow window sill. There was a plate with eggs, sausage and toast, and I could smell coffee. Cinnamon and hazelnut, whipped with cream and a pinch of sugar.

"That's good to hear." She smiled. "I made you some breakfast. When you're done, you may join me downstairs if you like." she paused for an answer, and after I gave her a nod and a grin, she left.

I turned to look out the window one last time before I would eat. The snow had stopped falling, and blue sky peeked through crevices in the thin layer of clouds. Tree branches, fence posts and most other surfaces were laced in white while the entire ground was completely covered in the thick powder. I imagined the storm had left at least seven inches of snow. I could hear the stirring of nature – winter birds preened their feathers and slowly evacuated their safe-havens, greeting the fresh but cold air. Rabbits and other mammals pushed their way through snow as they left their homes behind which had kept them warm from the storm.

Once the smell of food captivated my nostrils, my mind was distracted from the view outside. There was only one thing remaining in my thoughts now, and that was feeding my hungry stomach. I stretched, relieving the aches in my joints, and left the window to sit on the bed, ready to indulge myself with hearty home-cooking.

"If you could just rinse those off and place them in the dishwasher, I'd appreciate it." Trudy called from the couch as I entered the kitchen.

I nearly chuckled to myself while I struggled around the kitchen, figuring that it had been many years since I had to deal with dishes. If I wasn't hunting and dining no differently than any other carnivore, I was devouring greasy, starchy, hardly-call-it-food from bar service. May not be the healthiest of lifestyles, but I have thrived for over a decade. At least.

I finished up and headed towards the couch where I just stood awkwardly nearby.

"Come, dear. Sit with me." Trudy, without even looking up, placed a hand on the seat beside her, signaling for me to sit.

I kindly obliged and moved around the furniture, seating myself on the other end of the couch. I brought up my knees and curled up, feeling slightly cold in the room.

"I sent Logan out to chop some firewood." she explained as if to answer my silent question. She took a sip from her steaming mug. "We'll have a fire going in the fireplace in no time."

I just smiled back. I had been wondering where that man was. His musty stench clung to every wall in the home. And those cigars. That was the only factor that made me wish I could turn my sense of smell off. Besides the cheap tobacco, the smell of Logan sent my hormones in a hectic spiral. My thoughts were torn. He didn't smell like a man, and he sure didn't carry himself like one. He had more poise, and every movement was graceful. He stalked and seemed alert at every minute.

Just as I thought my mind was wandering enough, I began to picture him outside, carrying bundles of wood and handling the ax as if weren't even a slight burden. His back and shoulders would flex and bulge under his shirt as he lifted the blade above his head. His trunk-like thighs would strain while his wash-board abdomen would compress as he would bring the ax down. In one swift motion, a clean cut would separate the wood. No splinters, no splitting. Just smooth and even.

His lips would curl into a smirk around the chubby cigar that would rest between his teeth, poking out at one side of his mouth. He would grab another thick stump of wood and place it directly in the center of the chopping block, readying himself for another swing. Cold sweat will ripple down his tanned skin, outlining his muscular tone and...

"What are you thinking about, Adonia?" Trudy's voice brought me back to reality.

"I'm sorry." I shook my head and turned to face the woman who stared at me strangely. "What was that?"

"You were just staring off into space." Trudy giggled. "What's on your mind, dear?"

I almost felt my cheeks grow warm as I nearly blushed, but I quickly pushed that feeling aside. There was no need for me to feel embarrassed. "Oh, nothing."

Trudy just nodded it off. "So, Adonia. Where are you from?"

"Nome, Alaska."

"Well, that's quite a distance. What brings you all the way here?"

"I don't really know quite where I am." I shrugged. "But I left Nome many years ago. I've just been traveling ever since."

"Dear, you're in Northern Alberta. Near Peace Point." Trudy stated. I simply shrugged, so she continued. "How long ago did you leave Nome?"

"About thirty-something years ago." I mumbled.

Trudy's face was priceless. She looked in utter disbelief. "Did you say thirty-something?"

I nodded.

"How old are you, dear, if you don't mind my asking of course?"

"That depends. What year is it? I don't pay too much attention to dates."

"It's two-thousand-eleven."

I thought for a moment. "Then that would make me forty-one."

Trudy laughed, discomfort dripping in her tone. "Now dear, there is no need to joke around with me."

I stared at the woman for a moment, and with all seriousness, I answered "This isn't a game."

Trudy remained silent. I could see in her eyes that her mind was overpowered with thoughts. After a moment, she opened her mouth. "I must tell you, sweetheart, that you don't look a day over twenty."

"Well, I'm not exactly normal..."

"I've noticed." Trudy laughed kindly. "So, what brings you all the way to Northern Alberta?"

"Nothing. I just ended up here." I shrugged. "I've been on the move ever since I was thirteen, never looking back."

"How have you made it this far?" Trudy asked.

"I walked. I ran. I hitchhiked when I felt like it."

"Do you work?"

"Never have."

"Then how did you make money for food, or shelter?"

"In ways I'm not proud of." I whispered. I have always felt ashamed for the ways I've made a living, but I have to do what I need in order to survive.

"What about your family?" Trudy leaned forward slightly to listen.

I nearly barked at the woman, feeling anger surge through my veins. "I've never had a family." I snarled quietly. I lifted myself from the couch and left the room into the kitchen to pour a glass of water.

I entered the room and that certain smell grew stronger. Sure enough, there was Logan, leaning over the counter, picking at a bowl of pecans. I was wondering if he had been hovering for long enough to hear the conversation, when he spoke.

"So, forty-one, huh?"

A low growl rumbled in my throat as my eyes darted towards the man. "What's it to you?"

"Nothing." He replied as he stood straight. "Just thought I'd let you know you're not older than me."

"Thanks. That makes me feel so much better." I snapped, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"Calm down, she-wolf." Logan poured a handful of nuts into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.

"As much as I'm sure you love dawning pet names on people you meet, I really don't appreciate it." I said in a low voice as I slowly approached him. He stood his ground, and looked slightly amused. "I am in no mood to be played with. I have done and seen terrible things, and I hold no sympathy for any one. Especially not some egotistical prick, like yourself." I stopped when I reached the corner of the island. A slab of marble counter top was all that separated us, and Logan still remained glued, not flinching. "Now, if you would so kindly leave me alone, and keep your banter to yourself."

I stood still for a moment, trying to see the change in Logan's demeanor. But nothing changed. He just stood and stared back, a slight grin playing on his lips. I snorted and turned to walk away. I decided to brace the cold and linger on the front porch where I could enjoy the quiet to myself. But that didn't last long. I had been seated on the porch swing for maybe two minutes when I heard the screen door open, and following was his scent. I heard the wooden flooring give to his body weight as he took long strides toward the pillar off to my right. From the corner of my eye, I saw him lean up against the support and just stare at me.

Something about this moment made me want to open up. Just talk, and get some things off of my chest. I just wanted to clear my mind, and I thought that speaking of them would do the trick. Even if Logan didn't listen... I could just pretend he wasn't there for the most part. But he opened his mouth first.

"You know, not everyone has had it easy, kid. I've seen some pretty bad things, myself." He spoke.

I ignored him, and the name calling. "Have you ever killed someone, Logan?" My eyes remained fixed on the trees that scattered the territory.

I heard him shift uncomfortably. "Yes."

"What about an innocent?"

"Yes."

I nodded and lowered my head, clearing my throat of the lump that was trying to build. "I was born in Nome, Alaska. My mother loved me, and didn't stop, even after my father died when I was still an infant. When I was six, she started dating Joe. He was nice, at least at first..." My voice trailed off in a whisper. Logan remained leaned up against the post.

"He wasn't physically abusive. He just drank. A lot. Every night. And he was always yelling at my mother, ordering her around. He talked her into never letting me leave my room unless it was time to eat. I was a child, and I couldn't play outside or make any friends." I stopped and sighed heavily. "When I was eight, my mother had plans of leaving Joe. But then she had an accident. She was coming home from the grocery store and was hit by a drunk driver. She was paralyzed, and suffered brain damage. A living vegetable.

After months in the hospital, she was finally able to come home. Joe, of course, was still there. He did a decent job of taking care of her, surprisingly, but when it came to me, the abuse got worse. He screamed at me every time he spoke, and continued to call me worthless and a sorry excuse for a child.

A year later, I was in my room, playing with dolls I had made out of old curtains and feathers from torn pillows, and Joe came in, drunk as usual. He threw me against a wall and began to hit me. I was crying so hard, and so confused. I had never been hit. But he called me names and ripped my clothing, leaving me half naked in front of him. Then, something in his eyes changed. He looked... hungry..." The tears began to well in my eyes, and I breathed heavily to calm down. Logan was still in the same position, so I continued.

He advanced towards me and reached for the collar of my shirt, trying to pull it off. I got so angry, and what happened next was somewhat unclear. I just remember being on top of him, tasting blood while his flesh was in my mouth. But it wasn't my mouth. It wasn't my body. I was some kind of animal. So I left. I ran until I couldn't breath anymore and stopped on the other side of town. Looking down and finding paws rather than my hands was alarming. And then I blacked out."

"How old were you?" I heard Logan's voice.

"I was nine." I whispered.

"Did you ever see him again?"

"Well, I wandered the streets for a time, and finally took shelter in an orphanage. Almost a year later, Joe found me. But he was different. He was sober, and smelled clean for once. There were hideous scars all over his face and neck, as if he had been ravaged by a bear some time ago. He recognized me and approached, sobbing and on his knees. He apologized and took me in his arms, saying that my mother misses me and he wants me to come back. I did. I got in his truck and I went home with him. Things were better. He treated me like a ten-year-old girl should be treated. Bought me new clothes, tucked me in at night, and would apologize for his actions from long ago at least once a day."

"He came around, then?" Logan asked.

"When I was thirteen, he started drinking again. His voice would raise every once and a while, but it wasn't so bad. One day, he took me out back and told me he wanted to play a game. He told me that he had a hunting trip coming up with some buddies, and he needed to practice. He brought out his rifle, and slapped me. He called me a mutant bitch and pointed the gun at my head, shoving the barrel so hard into my temple. He kept screaming 'you fucked up my face. Now you'll pay, worthless whore', among other horrible things. He kept hitting me, and then I changed. I felt every bone shifting, and my skin felt like it was on fire as black fur slithered from every pore. I stared up at him, an evil grin tugging at his lips. The gun was still in my face, so I ran. I heard one shot, but felt nothing. Then a second. Nothing. Just before I hit the shelter of the trees, there was a third, and I felt an immense pain in my lower abdomen. But I kept running." I shook my head as if I were in disbelief of my own personal past.

"Where did you go?" Logan asked. I was surprised that he was still listening.

"I ran for over a day, until the town was miles behind me. I remember waking up, naked, in a wheat field. I felt the pain in my gut and saw all of the blood, so I pressed my hands to the wound, applying pressure, while the memories flooded back. I cried, and wished for the pain to go away. Just as I was about to pass out again, I looked down, and there was nothing there. No bleeding, no scar. Just the dried crimson that stained my hands and skin. So I picked up and ran again, moving from town to town.

I learned to control my gift, if that's what it could be called. I used it to my advantage, improving my hunting skills and having a sure fire way to feed my belly. It became useful for sneaking around dark alleys, coming across unsuspecting pedestrians. I'd steal their money or whatever they had." I cleared my throat again and looked at Logan. He was just watching me, expressionless.

"I met Matthew when I was nineteen. We moved in together almost immediately. He was the only man I ever loved. We were together for over a year and a half. He treated me like a queen, and he never knew of my counter-part. I loved him, more than anything. He made me forget about my past, and made me feel beautiful, and worth great things. But one night, he just snapped. He went crazy, a jealous rage, or something. He came home drunk and pressed me up against the wall. He said horrible things, and my past came flooding back. I tried to remain calm, I tried to push the anger aside, but he came at me with a knife. He gave me this..." I paused to run my fingers over the scar on my chest. A single tear ran silently down my cheek and fell to my lap.

"I thought you were a healer? Why is that still there?" Logan asked, shifting again from his post.

"I have learned that I heal by choice, when I'm conscious. It doesn't just happen, like what you obviously have been gifted with." I answered. "I decided to let this heal on it's own. I wanted a scar to remind me of a love I had, and the broken heart I have left. To remind me to never get close to any one again."

Logan nodded in understanding as I stood and made my way to the edge of the porch. I placed my hands on the railing and looked out at the snow covered atmosphere.

"I remember ripping through his chest. I sunk my teeth in his still beating heart, and pulled it free from his body while he sighed his last breath. I left without looking back. I was in a rage. I was blinded by anger, confusion, but most of all... hurt. I ran again, like I was used to, not knowing where I was leading myself, until I stood before the house I had not seen for nearly eight years. The animal within threw my head back, letting out a long and sorrowful howl. The door opened, and there stood Joe. I didn't even give him time to react. I just sprang and felt him underneath me. I ripped and clawed. I dismembered him, and left no sign of the person he once was. There was no recognizing the man when I was through. Nothing but flakes of skin, exposed bone that had been gnawed to nearly nothing, and blood. Everywhere."

"He got what he deserved." Logan stated.

I shook my head as the tears came pouring down. "I headed inside to find my mother. I followed her scent to the upstairs bedroom. I stood naked before the woman who just lay in the bed, still and almost lifeless. I had to put her out of her misery. I grabbed on of the pillows and held it over her face. There wasn't even a struggle. No movement. She was just gone at some point..." I had to stop as I gasped for breath. I turned my head so Logan couldn't see my tears and slowed my breathing.

"It was the only thing you could do." Logan stated. No emotion. Nothing. No anger, so sadness, nothing at all.

I turned to face him, the tears had stopped but the hurt was apparent in my eyes. "When I was holding that pillow, pressing it down around her head, I didn't feel sorry. I started to feel angry, like she had abandoned me years ago. I didn't kill her to save her. I did it because I hated her."

Logan grunted and turned to look out towards the trees. He looked slightly uncomfortable after that statement, so he did what he does best. He pulled that damned cigar from his jacket pocket and placed it between his teeth, biting down hard.

I sighed and regained my composure. "So, I left. I never stayed in one place for longer than two days, and I never got close to any one after that. I was always on the move, getting money in any way I could when I needed it. I picked up a few treats here or there, and now, I'm here..." I clicked my tongue and looked at the man, taking a step closer. "What about you?"

Logan furrowed his brow. "There aint much to tell. I only remember the last three years of my life, and I've been on the move, just the same as you, never looking back."

I locked eyes for a moment, but eventually they traveled down to his neck, over his collar bone and slowly down his chest where the muscles began to ripple, until my eyes rested on dog tags. I took another step and reached for the items around his neck, taking them in my hands and running my fingers over the lettering. "Wolverine?" I snorted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"No idea. That's usually what I go by, though." He answered.

"So, you were in the military?" I asked as my eyes examined the tags.

"Can't remember."

As I remained close, I could smell a difference in him. He was releasing pheromones, and my nose twitched as it caught the smell. I looked up into his eyes, as I lingered inches from his chest, and I saw a glimmer in their hazel color. He wanted me, or at least the animal within him did. The 'Wolverine', I thought.

"Well, Wolverine," I whispered softly. "I hope that you have more luck than me, and that you're past never catches up with you."

Logan cleared his throat, but kept still. He didn't flinch, and showed no sign of being uncomfortable. His eyes drifted lower until they rested on my chest. I looked down to examine my exposed skin, framed by a soft blue v-neck sweater. My scar peaked from under the the fabric. Logan brought his hand up and ran his fingers delicately over my skin, sliding under the neck line of the sweater. They met the weak skin that encased a deep wound that I had acquired many years ago, and he paused for a moment, but moved so softly, so slowly, as if I would break beneath his touch. I looked up to catch his expression. It was sincere. Very different than anything I had seen in the past few days of knowing this man.

My heart beat picked up a pace as I closed my eyes, absorbing the warmth from his fingers through my skin. He traced the outline of my scar repeatedly, until I felt his hand make it's way to my neck. His thumb massaged my jaw line while his fingers rested below my ear. I let in a sharp breath and felt my body grow weak, and exhaled slowly as his touch began to awaken the animal in me. I opened my eyes to meet his. They were wanting. Impatient. Hungry. I could only imagine that he read the same from mine, and just as he shifted to lean in, grabbing my neck with a force so powerful, but delicate in a sense, I felt the need to run.

He did things to me that I had never felt or experienced. Things I had never even imagined. And as much as I wanted to release the wolf and give in to everything it wanted, I ducked from Logan's grip and spun around at his side.

"It's time for me to leave." I stated bluntly as I met his gaze. His eyes were wide in confusion. He stood up tall as he cleared his senses of any tension and just stared at me.

"Goodbye, Logan." I nodded and ran from the porch towards the forest before me.

**Logan watched as the woman ran full speed towards the trees. She slipped off her blue sweater and stepped out of the fitted jeans as she kept running. He watched as more of her cream-colored skin appeared from underneath the clothing until she was fully in the nude. He watched her run, disappearing behind the large trunk of a willow. On the other side, when she would come back in sight, there was no woman, but a black wolf. Just running. Away from where he stood. **

**A sigh slowly released from Logan's lungs as he leaned against the pillar again, waiting for the wolf to completely disappear as she faded into the background. **

"**I think she has taken a liking to you." Trudy's voice whispered. **

**Logan spun around to see the older woman standing behind him. "What makes you say that?" **

"**A woman's intuition." she smiled. **

"**I think you're crazy." Logan rolled his eyes and turned to watch the direction in which Adonia had vanished. "I don't care much, any way." **

"**Logan, don't say that." Trudy stood beside him where Adonia once stood. Her smell was still lingering around Logan's nose. "I know you don't mean it, whether you're willing to admit it or not. Man or animal, you still have the urge to..."**

"**What? Mate?" Logan grunted. **

"**Well, if you prefer putting it in such uncivilized terms, then yes." Trudy smirked towards him. "She is unlike any woman I've ever known..." The woman thought aloud. **

"**Well, she's gone now." Logan's eyes remained fixed on the trees. **

"**Don't worry, dear." Trudy assured as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "She'll come around."**

**Logan shrugged it off. He was highly intrigued by Adonia, but it was no matter to him if he saw her again or not. They were both lone travelers, and that was no worry to him. **

"**Let's go in and get a fire going. It's starting to get a little chilly." Trudy suggested as she walked back inside. **

**Logan looked out towards Adonia's path for one last moment, then followed Trudy into the home. **


	7. Like a Ton of Bricks

**Here is chapter 7, for you folks. I really hope that you enjoy! The next chapter should be up tomorrow, actually, and that one will be really good ;) Something we've all been waiting for, I guess you could say! **

**I would also love to thank SupernaturalPassion. You are such a sweetheart, and you definitely keep me motivated to keep writing this story! :) I appreciate everything, sweetheart! For everyone else, if you haven't gotten the chance, check out her Wolverine fic. It's fantastic! **

**I really hope that you all enjoy, and please review! I really do love to hear what people think :) I appreciate all kinds of feedback! **

* * *

Two days had passed since Adonia had just suddenly up and left. Logan often caught himself staring aimlessly in the direction she had disappeared without even remembering how he had made his way onto the front porch in the first place.

Logan was more than appreciative of Trudy's hospitality, but he was quickly growing tired of his stay. Something began to eat at the back of his mind once Adonia was gone, and now he was ready to be on the move again. Without even a mention to the old woman, Logan started to pack his truck.

It was early in the afternoon. The sun was shining, illuminating what was left of the white snow on the ground. The orange glow stood alone in the clear, blue sky, it's rays having no interruptions save for the canopies of branches and dying leaves. The air was still cold, chilling the bones, regardless of a warm kiss from the sun upon the skin.

After tossing the first satchel into the cabin of the truck, Logan paused and glanced towards that infamous zone once again. He lifted his nose toward the sky and closed his eyes, taking in every scent that surrounded him. With one deep breath, he found what he had been holding onto for the past two days. It was faint, hardly noticeable, and faded more with each passing moment. The mixed smell of wild pines and ivy, with a natural vanilla and patchouli sweat. It was feral, untamed, and the stinging sensation of pheromones accented the other scents of a female wolf. The smell of Adonia still lingered.

"I figured you would be leaving soon." A voice caught Logan off guard while he had been basking in such a delightful scent.

Logan turned and grunted at Trudy, then proceeded to pass her by while heading back into the home.

"Logan, you are more than welcome to stay." Trudy followed him.

"Thanks, but I would rather go." Logan grumbled, then added "No offense."

Trudy threw up her palms and shrugged. "Is there a reason you would rather go?"

"Not really." Logan confessed and continued grabbing his things to throw them into a bag.

Trudy looked away and nodded. "Well then, I would like to give you something."

"Trudy, you've done enough." Logan assured.

Logan heard the woman's footsteps as she left the room. He heard a drawer open, followed by the rustling of papers and heavier objects being slid against wood. Then, the sound of thin pieces of metal clanking, like keys. The drawer closed and the footsteps lead back to their previous position.

"Here." Trudy spoke.

Logan turned to view the woman standing behind him, right arm outstretched. Hanging from her fingers was sure enough, a set of keys. "what are those for?"

"You." she replied. "I own a cabin in the next county over. Comes with a hefty piece of land, including about a third of the nearby lake. And no other person around for at least seven miles."

"I can't take those..."

Trudy stepped forward and stopped Logan from speaking. "Anything there is yours. I haven't been up for over five years, and I really have no need for it anymore."

Logan stared back at the woman for a moment, reading over the serious expression in her eyes. "Listen, I appreciate your generosity. You are something else. But why are you doing this? Why are you being so..."

"Giving? Caring?" Trudy finished. Logan's train of thought was stopped. It was evident in his eyes. "I could say the same thing about you, dear. For whatever reason, known only to yourself, you've chosen to be more of an animal than the man I can see inside there, yet you have been nothing less than patient and kind with me."

Logan grunted and shifted his weight, waiting to hear the woman speak again.

Trudy noticed that the man was not satisfied with what she had given him as far as a response, so she wet her lips nervously, and spoke. "Logan, I have cancer. Doctor says I might have another year left."

Logan's face went blank. The woman didn't look sick, and she didn't smell that way either. He was utterly surprised, and another feeling slowly began to sink in, until it hit him like a ton of bricks. One he couldn't remember ever experiencing... Sorrow.

"I have no children, no family, and not even any friends, really. I have known you for only a few short days, but I have honestly felt closer to you than any one I've come to know in the past twenty years." Trudy stepped forward again and grabbed Logan's hand, placing the keys into his open palm. She closed his fingers over the gift. "Please, don't let these past few days be in vain."

Logan swallowed the lump growing in his throat and focused on the cold metal of the keys in his hand. He caught Trudy's gaze once more. "I'm sorry." he whispered.

"Don't be." she smiled sweetly. "Just take them."

"But..."

"I don't want to hear it, dear." she stopped him again. "I don't know why you and that poor girl feel the need to always be on the move, but this will give you a safe place to live. Away from anything you could possibly be running from."

The mention of Adonia made Logan shift uncomfortably.

"Don't worry about her, Logan." Trudy spoke as if she read his mind. "She's just as stubborn and wild as you. She'll take care of herself. Maybe, someday, you will see her again."

Logan leaned up against the back of the couch, deep in thought.

Trudy continued to speak. "I just want you to promise me that you will keep them and use them. If you wish, you don't need to stay. Just take care of it for me, and come back when you can. It would mean the world to me."

Logan nodded in response.

"There is also a logging factory about twelve or so miles North of the town, if you end up wanting to look for a job. I don't know why, but I could see you doing well as a lumberjack." She joked at him.

Logan nodded again.

A moment of silence hovered between the two bodies as they studied each other's thoughts.

"Well then, with that settled, I'll let you finish packing. I'll jot down some directions for you." she smiled again and walked away.

Logan remained still, his mind racing and pulling in all different directions. He shook his head of his thoughts and squeezed the keys into his jean pocket, then returned to gathering up his belongings.

"I hate goodbyes." Trudy's voice was heard as she approached Logan by his truck. "So take this, and be on your way." she spoke sternly.

Logan locked eyes with her for a moment after stuffing the last item into his truck. He looked down at an envelope in which she was holding out to him, then returned his gaze to her calm face. There was a tinge of pain behind the woman's eyes, but she hid it well. A faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Take it." she repeated, shaking the paper at him. "It's directions and a few things to help you along the way."

His fingers gently gripped the crisp edge of the envelope, and he slid it from Trudy's hands. He noticed it was relatively thick and examined it for a moment, only to bring his eyes back to the woman once more.

"Go, Logan." Trudy smiled reassuringly.

Logan nodded and came around the front of the truck. He pulled open the creaking door and lifted himself to the seat, resting the key in the ignition and pausing for a moment before turning. He stared at the steering wheel, grinding his teeth, until he realized that his wandering eyes had rested upon the trees again, as if he were waiting for her return before he would leave. But there was nothing. No one. Just the breeze singing amid the bark of willows and the fluttering of wings while insects wound through the tall grass. Nothing more.

He heard footsteps to his right and ripped his eyes from the path to look upon Trudy standing at the passenger window.

"Take the road you came up in back to the interstate. Take a right, and the directions I gave you will take it from there." She ordered.

Logan nodded, and without hesitation, he turned the key, the engine roaring against the placid setting of the forest. He swallowed a breath and shifted gears, letting the truck lurch forward, signaling the start of his next run.

Trudy didn't stay to watch him go. She turned her back to the truck and walked slowly to her home, only listening to the turning of the engine and the grinding of gravel as the tires laid their tracks against the road. Logan's eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, never peering in the rear-view mirror. This would all be left behind, and forgotten one day. Why not start now.

Logan stopped at the sign where the road opened up to the interstate. He looked back and forth between the two directions he could take, seeing the road stretch out either way and then disappear into curves amid the mountains. He sat there, for however long, he couldn't fathom, just thinking. Waiting. He looked down at the seat beside him and saw the envelope resting on the leather cushioning. With a deep sigh, he plucked the package from the seat and opened it.

He brought out two pieces of folded paper, and noticed something more within. Pulling apart the lips of the envelope, he realized that there will bills. Money. He eyed it strangely before dropping it on his lap, ready to unfold the other paper. The first were written directions, just as Trudy had explained. How to get to the cabin, where the propane tank was, the heater, all of the small problems that she knew of. There were also details for the logging company she had spoken about.

The other was a note.

_Logan,_

_I would like to thank you for making these last few days ones that I will gladly remember until the end of my time. It was an incredible joy having you around. _

_Along with the directions and the keys to the cabin, I have also given you what money I had to spare, just to get you started with whatever life you wish to start, or continue. I hope it helps. _

_Sincerely, with love, _

_Gertrude_

_P.S. Always remember to take chances. Life is too short, after all, even for a man who may never die. _

Logan snorted, almost annoyed at the kind words of the letter. He was annoyed at the compassion. He had never had anything like this in his life, at least as far as he could remember.

He threw the letter down, having it land at the foot of the passenger seat, and his eyes, once again, landed on the envelope. He picked it up and slid out the cash. He added up the bills to five hundred dollars. He shook his head and folded the money into his jacket pocket, followed by placing the directions to the cabin on his dashboard. He looked back to the road, and proceeded to make a right onto the interstate.

Continuing to drive through the evening, and even into the darkness of night, Logan's mind crept to lonely places. He pushed everything behind him, ready to forget whatever had happened the last week or so. He pushed away the smell of old, dried blood that stained the backseat of his truck, and the smell of a woman. The scent of fabric softener that clung to his clothing. He pushed away everything. If the faint smell of that blasted wolf-woman would somehow creep it's way in to the truck, Logan would simply light up one of his cheap cigars and let the thick smoke cloud the air, suffocating any other scent that would try to invade.

He would clear his throat, and feel all of the memories fade even more with each turn he made. He would choke back a breath if he caught his mind wandering, shaking his head of any thought that wasn't focusing on the road. Just focus. That's all he did. Focus. The road ahead, not the one behind. Just ahead. That's where he was forever going.

The sun was beginning to kiss the sky in the East, throwing a contrast of brilliant pinks and oranges against the midnight blue sky that stretched above the trees. The East looked ablaze. A slow burning fire that would soon swallow everything as a whole. The darkness would be gone, and the fire would thrive, until the moon would awake to start the cycle once more at dusk.

Logan sat in his truck as his foot pressed against the break. He just remained still, staring ahead while the engine purred. A faint aura filtered through the trees, casting a pinkish light upon all that stood before him, accenting every curve of the shrubbery and landmarks, and the small cabin that rested in between.

He had made it. The place he would call home for however long he would need.

He turned the key to silence the load engine and removed it from the ignition. He stepped out of the vehicle to take in more of the scenery. A small log cabin stood before him. It was no doubt very old. There were dark spots within the wood, and every corner of every wall was threatening with visible splinters as the wood rotted and flaked. The entire structure leaned slightly to the left as the A-framed roof drooped slightly at the crest.

All that Logan could think of was how perfect it seemed. An outcast, a piece of work, and a loner. Just like him. This cabin would be perfect. Absolutely.

The sun had fully escaped the horizon by the time Logan had finished unloading his truck. Everything was illuminated by the fury of the ultra-violet rays, and the cold air filled the inside of the small cabin. Logan piled a gathering of fire wood within the brick fireplace and lit a pyre. The flames licked the air, immediately warming the room in which it lived. Shadows danced among the fire and upon the wooden walls. A content sigh slowly liberated from Logan's lips. He was at peace.

Until a familiar smell once again carried itself to his nose. He growled with indignation and stormed over to his jacket which he had thrown on a small rocking chair by the fire. He dug around in the pockets for the stub of his cigar. After finding it, he bit down on the end, the juices immediately calming his nerves, and leaned down to light it in the fireplace. The smoke curled it's fingers around the room, wrapping around any faint smell and extinguishing it's existence.

But the scent was strong. It wasn't wafting on the breeze, like it had been before. It wasn't creeping around the corners and tickling his nose when least expected. It was lingering, and fresh. This scent was immobile, not just some lame trickster wanting to play games with his mind.

Logan furrowed his brow as his eyes darted around the room. His lip curled as a low growl rumbled from his throat. His footsteps were heavy as he made his way toward the front door where the scent grew even stronger. He could feel the anger and frustration building up inside as he reached for the handle. He threw the old door open, breaking the hinges under his strength. He stepped out onto the small porch and gazed out into the trees, sniffing the air. His nose wrinkled and twitched while he tried to place the intruding aroma.

"I've been thinking. If you can't remember anything from before three years ago, how are you so sure about your age?" A sweet and cunning voice cooed in his ear.

Logan turned his head to view the crafty creature, a smirk already playing on his lips. He met those dark, piercing blue eyes framed by flowing black hair. The woman leaned her shoulder up against the post, returning his smirk with on of her own. She looked so sure of herself. So confident, and a playful glint flickered in her eye. Her brow raised, and her lips curled slightly up, hardly noticeable, into more of a smile. She looked beautiful.

Logan tried to clear his throat. His eyes were fixed on Adonia. He was frozen solid, his sly smile and everything. His chest raised slowly as a sharp breath filled his lungs. He watched her lick her lips, and he could have sworn he saw her eyes dart downwards slightly. To whatever destination, it was unknown, but she did break contact for an instant.

Adonia cocked her head to the side slightly, and raised her brow even more. "Don't tell me," she paused, biting her lip. "I'm not making the Wolverine nervous, am I?"

Logan's brow furrowed again. This was unlike the woman he had known three days before. There was something completely different about her character. Her voice was even slightly different. It was alarming, but intriguing all at once. This confidence, this assurance, this approach... It was sexually captivating.

He couldn't ignore the animal howling within, and it became even more difficult when Adonia stepped forward, one foot in front of the other. Her eyes remained fixed on Logan, a sultry scintillation kindling her sapphire blues.

Logan watched the woman move slowly toward him, that same smirk beginning to tug on his lips. Moments ago, he had been wondering how or why she was here. What exactly she was doing. After focusing, he caught a more steady whiff of her scent, and he was able to notice the difference. The reason for her strange behavior.

This woman did smell like Adonia. That pine and vanilla smelling canine. But now what once only tickled the senses burned every hair within his nose. A bitter yet tantalizing smell, a scent that drove the man wild, and the beast within into a ravaging struggle to be set free. Hell, he could even smell another male somewhere, hiding deep within the woods nearby, tracking her down by this smell. The insanity eating at his brain while he tried to find the female that was drawing him in.

Adonia was not fooled by Logan's stone-still stance. She could see it in his eyes that on the inside, he was tearing himself apart. A chaotic hurricane of hormones were sending the man into a maniacal spiral. This is exactly what she wanted. Exactly what she needed, and only Logan would be good enough to satisfy.

The difference in her scent strengthened with every inch that was closed between them, and Logan finally found the energy to turn and face towards the woman. He stood taller, straightening his back and holding his head high, a natural stance for a male in this position. His smirk grew wider. He had all the reason to feel like a man at this point, and every reason to flaunt it, for Adonia was, in fact, in heat.


	8. Some Kind of Tough Guy

**AN - Hello everyone. I am so sorry that I took so long to post this chapter, but it's finally here! And next chapter WILL be up soon, I promise :) **

**I really hope that you all enjoy, and I would greatly appreciate it if you let me know what you think! Remember, reviews = 3 :) Haha, no pressure or anything ;) **

**Actually, to be honest, even a personal message would be wonderful. I just appreciate feedback :)  
**

* * *

"Logan," the sound of his name rolling so quietly from her tongue caused a low growl to reluctantly escape his throat. Every urge to pounce the very naked, and _very_ aroused, female before him burned in his belly, but he fought them to stand his ground and watch what may unfold.

"I know you want me." Adonia took one last step, stopping mere inches from the man's rigid chest. Her blue eyes looked almost black as she tilted her chin up and gazed at him through thick, dark lashes. "I can smell it," she whispered at his whiskered chin, her slender making contact with his shoulders. "I can hear it..." Her eyes widened so slightly as she stopped the downward track of her hand to rest over his heart for a moment. The thin shirt he wore could not wane the burning sensation of her touch.

Adonia leaned closer, her eyes caught in his again. She slid her leg against the inside of his thigh. After their short pause, her fingers took teasing steps down, past his taut chest, passed his ripped abdomen, to his right hip where her palm pressed firmly against the curve. Her eyes remained fixed, her brow flinching, and her bottom lip was caught delicately between her teeth as she turned her hand and dipped her fingers below the waistline of his blue jeans. Her hand traveled down and deep, dangerously fast, until resting at the root of his erection, the pads of her fingertips grazing the coarse hair that surrounded. "I can feel it." she growled up at him, her eyes hardening and her teeth bared.

A feral snarl erupted from Logan's chest and exploded at his throat as every muscle tensed. He lunged forward, his large hands aiming for a vice grip on her slender hips and his mouth open to capture her cream-colored neck.

Logan shot up fast from the grungy rocking chair beside the old fireplace, skin sweating and chest heaving. His eyes were dressed in a glare as they scanned the nearly empty room around him. He clenched his jaw and gripped the arms of the furniture, the wood splintering beneath his fists. He willed his breathing to slow and his senses to calm while releasing the tension from his stiff muscles.

How could _that_ have been a dream? It was so real... The smell, her smell...

As his limbs relaxed and he lifted himself from the chair, Logan could still feel the searing trail on his skin from where the woman had explored with her fingers. The path down his front that actually never happened.

But... It was _so_ real. The unwanted tightness in his jeans was proof of just exactly how it real it seemed.

"Get a grip, old man," Logan muttered to himself after glancing out the front window and adjusting himself below the waist with his right hand. He let the ratty curtains fall back in place when his stomach growled from below. Logan stepped into the kitchen and opened the very small and very few cabinets in search of something appetizing. Just as expected, the wooden spaces were void of food. They were completely empty.

He found the bag he was searching for on top of the pile of his belongings and opened the pack to find the envelope he had received from Gertrude. He tossed most of the contents to the side until finding a list of helpful tips and addresses in the old woman's hand-writing. His eyes searched the paper, falling past the location of the lumber yard and found that there was a neighboring town just nine miles North West. Trudy noted that this would be where Logan could find a convenience store among hardware shops and other businesses that would prove helpful to his stay.

Logan pulled a few bills from the envelope, grabbed his keys, and head out the door towards his truck. His eyes roamed the small, empty clearing between the cabin and the edge of the forest. Shaking off thoughts of paranoia, Logan turned the vehicle on and drove towards the interstate.

Logan followed the directions Trudy had scrawled down for him, and upon arriving at his destination, he let out a slight chuckle at the sight of this so-called town. There were maybe five or six buildings on either side of a single street. One street. There were no roads leading into suburbs or turns to present more businesses. Just one street, in and out. The pavement was ancient, cracking and stained from years of exposure to the sun, no matter how many short hours a day it could actually be reached by the rays. All signs were hand-painted wood, with exceptionally detailed writing and designs. There were very few cars and only a handful of people. A small town meant a lower population, and Logan found himself quite content with the thought. For the time being, at least.

After finding what looked like a legal parking space out on the street near the front entrance to "Peace Mountain Market", Logan moved from his truck to the quaint building and walked through double glass doors, setting off the annoying sound of a bell. Most likely to inform employees of the arrival of customers. He grabbed one of the hand-held baskets and headed down the first aisle of a total of nine.

While carelessly tossing a loaf of bread into his basket, he grunted towards a small boy who gaped up at him. His eyes were wide and his jaw was quivering. Logan snorted and furrowed his brow at the child, sending him running in the other direction. Moments later, Logan could hear his voice squealing a few rows down, "Mommy! Did you see the big, hairy man?"

"Calm down, Christopher." a woman's voice scorned.

"But _mom_! He's scary... I think it's that big foot monster. You know, the one that daddy always -"

"Sweetheart, mind your manners."

Logan rounded the corner as the woman was leaning down to scold her son. Se straightened out and turned her head towards the strange man. Her jaw dropped slightly, and a mousy "Oh" sighed from her lips. Logan turned into the next aisle after smirking at the woman, before disappearing behind the stack of generic potato chips.

After grabbing random cans of soup, beans and a couple packages of hot dogs, Logan headed into the most important department of the establishment. Beer. He read the labels, finding that the sections was extremely minimal. There wasn't even any sign of a single bottle of hard liquor. Not that Logan minded. Beer was his poison. As long as there was a brew that he knew and enjoyed, then – Ah, there it is. _Moosehead Lager. _This should do.

Logan topped off his basket with a carton of eggs and a gallon of milk, while cradling his thirty-two pack of beer in the other arm. He stepped toward the only register that seemed to be open out of the two lanes and grinned down at the young boy from moments earlier. The kid tugged on his mother's coat and stared frightened while the woman loaded her groceries onto the counter.

"Honey, what is..." the woman's gaze traveled up the man standing merely feet away. "Oh." she said in the familiar, mousy tone. Her lips curled into a nervous smile. "Hello. Sorry about, you know, before..."

Logan grunted and gave a careless shrug of his shoulder in response.

The woman swallowed hard, tearing her eyes away from Logan's arms to regain focus on unloading her groceries. Another skeptical look after paying and before she exited with her son was the last acknowledgment he received from the woman. Logan rolled his eyes and placed the basket alongside his beer before the cashier.

"I've never seen you before." Came a voice from behind the register. Logan shifted his gaze to be greeted with honey-colored eyes set behind dark, curled eyelashes and bronzed cheeks. "New in town?"

Logan stared boredly at the smiling woman. She was pretty, in a small-town, hard-labor, working-girl kind of way, but he wasn't keen on small talk.

"Or just passing through?" her eyes lowered to reach into the basket for a can of chili. She scanned the item while reaching for another, and tilted her chin to look back at the man, not before letting her sights linger up his chest.

'Fucking women.' Logan thought. 'Either think I'm a criminal or want to rip my damn clothes off.' He rolled his eyes and relaxed with a sigh. "I'll be in town for a while." he answered monotonously.

"You stayin' at the motel, or-"

"Got my own place." Logan grunted.

The girl nodded and smiled shyly while finishing with her job. She punched in a few keys after scanning the beer. "After the discount, that will be thirty-two-ninety-six."

Logan raised a brow questioningly.

The girls lips pulled to the side and curled into a sly grin. "Take it how you want it." she answered with a shrug of the shoulders, her eyes glinting flirtatiously.

Logan reached into his back pocket and slid out the folded up bills. He handed the girl a sufficient amount of cash and waited for his change.

"Well, my name's Stella." she smiled brightly and handed Logan his change and receipt. "And I hope to see you around, real soon."

After doing a quick once-over of the girl, he gathered she was most likely in her mid-twenties, and she was indeed very attractive. Petite, but deliciously curvy in all of the right places, and a natural bronze glow to her smooth skin. Thick and long chestnut colored hair... 'Well, she could probably come in handy someday.' Logan smirked.

"Likewise," he drawled with a wink, gathered his bags, and left the store, knowing that Stella's eyes were on his ass as he exited through the doors.

Judging by the placement of the sun as he pulled onto the old and forgotten road to his new, yet temporary home, Logan figured it was late afternoon. As he thrust the gear into park after settling his vehicle in a spot he had deemed best for parking, he polished off the beer he had decided to drink while enduring the drive and tossed the empty bottle onto the floor of his truck. He gathered the bags of food and the case of beer, bringing them inside and placing them on the counter top in the kitchen. Logan headed back outside and emptied the bed of the tools and other necessities he had bought from the hardware store.

Three days later, Logan throws himself into the old, ratted love-seat that had once, long ago, seen better days. Two more trips into town had been made, and all hours of each day had been spent restoring, cleaning, and drinking. He pops the top from the bottle and pulls a deep sip from the crisp beer, the beads of sweat from the glass rolling over his battered knuckles.

He samples another taste and lets his eyes wander around the room. The cobwebs are gone. The wood of the structure no longer looks old and beaten. The stains that once littered various spaces were barely visible, and every light fixture was awarded with a working light bulb.

Seeing his new, although temporary (he keeps telling himself) home, in what could easily be thought as the best condition in many years, draws a content grin across his lips. He finishes the lager with one, savory drink and grabs another beer from the fridge (which no longer smells like some poor critter had made it's death bed), before heading to the porch.

An eerie, blue glow settles against the lush landscaping as the sun sets behind him. The temperature has dropped slightly, and the slight breeze gets caught in his shirt, still damp from his sweat. He pulls a half-smoked cigar from his back pocket, the end chewed to almost nothing, and places it between his teeth. And then he listens.

Somewhere, maybe a half mile away, is the sound of tires against a gravel road, heading South. Away from his home. The trees groan as the wind moves them, and a branch snaps somewhere, far away to his left. The wood slats of the porch creak and moan under his weight as he takes a step closer to the stairs. He hears the howl of a wolf in the distance, and he tilts his chin up, taking a long breath through his nose. Definitely not Adonia, he concludes.

He snorts, like he always does when he's aggravated, and heads back through the door. Once inside, he finishes his beer and gets himself comfortable, back on the love-seat, where he soon drifts into sleep.

The following morning, when the sun creeps through the windows and warms against his closed eyelids, Logan shifts in his sleep. He groans his protest, and the fact that he still managed to forget some sort of drapery to block out that blasted light. Even still, he's soon awake and shuffling from the room into the kitchen. He uses one of his adamantium claws to remove the lid from a chili can, and grabs a cold beer from the fridge. He finds a spoon, somewhere amid the mindless crap in the drawers, and shovels the canned food into his mouth. He finishes with a flourished burp and a swig from the beer. Hands wrapped around the edge of the counter as he stares out the kitchen window, Logan decides that today will be a very long day.

Nearing eleven in the morning, Logan arrives at the road that leads to the logging factory. His truck sputters and growls as he drives along the dirt road, and many heads turn to watch the stranger enter their territory. He tries to hide the smirk at the thought of being able to take any one of these men, until it's lost for good at the sight of the man emerging from what looked like the office.

Now, Logan knew he wasn't very tall, and in the right set of clothes, he didn't look very large either. But that never stopped anyone from being intimidated. He thrived on that. This man, however, or rather lion of a man, was a behemoth. He stood at least seven feet tall, at least, and his shoulders were about as wide as the grill of his truck. His hands could easily fit around Logan's face. And that hair... That hair! His scalp was adorned with a fiery red mane, curled and matted with sweat and grease, and it fell to his chin. He had a beard that matched which reached the center of his broad chest. Yeah, the guy may not have some ridiculously tough metal welded to his skeleton, but Logan knew he could certainly do some sort of damage.

Clearing his throat, Logan climbs out of his truck and walks towards the office, past the lion-man without making eye contact, and lets himself in. He's greeted by the sight of a woman with bleached blonde hair and brown eyes.

She takes her eyes from the fashion magazine she's reading and raises a skeptic brow towards Logan. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for work." He states, not moving from his position in front of the door.

She rocks her jaw while chewing on a piece of pink bubble gum and looking over the man in front of her. She shrugs and removes her feet from their resting place on the desk. "You'll have to talk to my husband about that."

Logan folds his arms over his chest and nods in response.

The woman opens the door and holds her head out. "Rob!" she shouts in a rather harsh tone. "Get in here! I got someone who's lookin' for work!" When she finishes, she closes the door and flashes a small smile toward Logan. "He'll be in a minute." She starts sweetly. "I'm Joanne. If you get hired, you can call me Jo."

Logan watches as she seats herself back behind the desk after not getting an reply, and finds her place in the magazine she had set down before.

The clock states the a little over three minutes roll by before the door opens again, revealing the monster of a man that Logan had seen upon his arrival. He guessed it was Rob. The man immediately sizes Logan up, and smug grin playing on his lips. Logan doesn't budge. He just holds eye contact, arms still folded across his chest. He can't help the subtle grunt that rolls in his throat. Rob takes that as a hint.

"Follow me." He gestures with a nod, then turns to head into a room in the back. Logan does as told, and follows his lead.

Once the door is shut behind them, the large man turns and looks him up and down once more. "You're kind of little." he says.

Logan clears his throat and scratches his fingers against the stubbled skin of his jaw.

Rob shrugs and leans against the wall that's embellished with an array of stuffed animal heads. "So what kind of work are you lookin' for?"

"Anything you got." Logan replies while subtly taking in his surroundings.

"How much can you lift?"

Logan shrugs. "Not sure. Whatever you give me."

A loud, deep laugh roars from the mans throat as he throws his head back. "Intrepid, aren't we? Really, what's the weight?"

"I never measured. Whatever needed movin', I got done." Logan finds a place across the room from the man and leans against the wall, mimicking his pose.

"Maybe from wherever it is that you come from, balls of steel can get you far." he leans in slightly, the room suddenly feeling a little smaller to Logan. "But here, in this town, and in my business, we use logic. This aint a gun show, or whatever it is that you boys call it these days. This is work, and it's hard and dirty."

Logan just stares. His expression is blank, and not a single muscle flinches. He almost looks bored. The larger man laughs again. He's amused by Logan's confidence. At least it's what he thinks is just confidence. Maybe even just some cocky attitude. Whatever it was, he wasn't about to let him walk out of here without being taught a lesson.

"Alright, have a seat." He gestures towards the small, metal-framed chair at the edge of the desk that looked like a slab of wood. No rhyme, no reason, no shape even. Just a slab of thick, preserved wood on trunk-like legs. Logan watched as the other man took his own seat at the nicer desk chair, then followed suit. The chair murmured below him as it took in his weight, and the metal squealed as the frame twisted slightly. The man stared at him strangely, but shook his head and placed his right elbow on the desk.

"Come on. Get over here." He wiggled his fingers, waiting for Logan to make a move.

Logan snorted and eyed the man oddly, waiting for some sort of explanation.

"You think you're tough, that's fine. I just want you to show me." he stated simply.

Logan continued to look bored as he slowly brought his elbow to rest on the surface of the desk, bringing his palm into contact with what he compared to a baseball glove. His hand literally felt like a child's in correlation.

Rob gripped his hand and grinned at the difference in sizes. "Whenever you're ready."

Logan just nods in response.

Rob immediately begins bringing Logan's arm down, his large arm very much like that of a bears, pushing against his opponents. Logan's biceps twitch and tighten as he holds his ground.

"Come on, boy. Is that all you got?" Rob looked very entertained by the sight of his strength obviously overpowering Logan's.

"I'm not even trying." Logan mutters as the steady pull towards the desk begins to slow. His wrist is merely inches from the surface.

The large, red-haired man lets out another deep, throaty laugh. "Well then go on. Give me all you got."

That caught Logan's attention. Within an instant, he snaps. His grip tightens around Rob's hand, and with a quick pull, he sends his arm in the other direction. Even before he is able to slam his competitor's arm down, the sound of bones cracking and tendons straining rings out in his ears, and then the impact happens. Logan would swear he heard the the thick wood of the desk fracturing, and when he looks, sure enough, a line as thin as fishing wire now ran from where he had slammed Rob's fist down to the edge.

Rob howled out in pain and held his wrist to his chest. He breathed in once, and exhaled slowly. Then again. After the pain subsided, he looked back at Logan.

Logan opened his mouth, but he couldn't find any words. He was never good with apologies, not to mention he felt there was no need to in this situation. The man had told him to give him everything he had, and that's no fault of his. So, he said what he felt as necessary. "Sorry about your desk."

Rob just stared at him, slightly bewildered, and his eyes quickly went soft. "It's fine. Gives it a little more character, don't think?"

It was Logan's turn to be caught off guard. "Uh... I don't..."

"Don't worry about it." Rob stands to his full height, shaking his injured arm slightly as if to rid it of the pain. "That was pretty exciting."

"Sure." Logan says.

"I kind of figured you weren't some sissy boy. I mean, I didn't expect _that_, but I knew there was something about you. You look like someone who knows how to take care of business."

"So, you're not pissed off or-"

"Heck no!" Rob cuts him off. "I always give the new prospects a hard time." he finishes with a wink.

Logan smirks in return, then scratches the back of his neck. "Well, I'm sorry about your arm, or whatever."

Rob waves his hand at him. "It's nothin'. I've felt worse. Probably just a sprain. Any way, I'm Rob." He holds out his left hand and Logan takes it.

"Logan."

"We could certainly use all the help we can get around here, Logan. What do you say you come on back tomorrow? I can show you the ropes, and I can have Jo get the paperwork started this afternoon."

"I'll be here in the morning." Logan nods.

"Good." Rob leads him out of the room to the front desk. "Jo, Logan will be back tomorrow. You know what to do." He places a kiss on her temple and turns towards the smaller man again. "Wear that," he gestures towards Logan's outfit, "or something similar."

Logan nods again and exits the office. He climbs into his truck and leaves the area, heading into town for another round of groceries, and possibly a beer at the small corner bar. Hell, maybe even a go with the clerk at the grocery mart. What was her name again?


	9. Beg Like A Dog

a href=".com/albums/y136/ThisWorldHasOnly1SweetMoment/?action=viewcurrent=" target="_blank"img src="." border="0" alt="Photobucket"/a

She is running again. This time _from_ something.

She hates to admit it, and would deny it out loud, but staying with the older woman for the amount of time she did was oddly comforting. She lost count of the many homes who had invited her in, to which she always declined. But for the first time in over twenty years, she actually felt that she could belong. And there were no questions asked, no ridicule or mockery, or even a single fake smile. Just acceptance. Not to mention that man.

Logan. It was obvious that Adonia was almost immediately attracted to him, regardless of all his male bravado. In fact, if she were honest, this only made him more irresistible. And that is why she found herself running.

She ran because she was frightened (another truth she would deny). Her curiosity for the male feral was growing rapidly, and it was nearing the point where she feared she would no longer be able to hide the strong pull she felt. It didn't help that Logan had no intentions of covering up his interest in her. She could smell it. She could see it. This drove the animal within to hysterics.

It especially didn't help when Adonia felt the first cramp deep in her belly that morning. Her muscles were stiff and the base of her spine burned with a tingling sensation. She knew it was only a matter of hours before her animal traits would slip into a powerful heat, and she had to get out of there before Logan could smell it. Before she ended up doing something really stupid.

The canine and the woman, two very opposite species and personalities, living together as one whole entity within her, agree aggressively on one thing. Sex **only** complicates things. Whether it be the overly-emotional baggage of the woman, the yearning for a long-time partnership from the wolf, or the outer influence of a man who have multiple reasons to manipulate a female companion into staying; it all created nothing more than a mess. Adonia had not been intimate with any one in over a decade, and she was more than content with this choice.

Besides, the last time she got down and dirty led to a month-long binge on sex. She couldn't get away from the cravings, so she did nearly anything to satisfy her urges. That would **not** be happening again. No sex. Ever. And it will remain this way.

So she runs. She runs long into the night until there isn't a single trace of Logan's scent left. The wolf in heat tries to sniff it out, but it's useless. He's gone.

Four days have passed, and her body is relaxed. She no longer aches for that deep plunge. The sickly sweet taste of flesh and sweat.

She had warned off multiple males who followed her scent in hopes of a potential mate. They were almost drugged by her female stink, but they all turned with their tails tucked high after enough fight was given. One stayed and tested his push further. He was insistent and hungry for sex. Adonia sometimes feels there isn't much of a difference in the behaviors of a male human or wolf.

Luckily, she had proven herself more than worthy in a wild fight countless times before. The male that would not give up soon left with a slight limp and probably a haunting memory that may cause a slight hesitance in his future endeavors.

She finds herself drinking her fill from a small creek days later. She had scavenged the half-day old carcass of a young moose late in the night, and bathed her fur coat when the sun rose. Any easy life, she thinks. No need for anything more.

It was only a matter of time before thoughts of the man who was so different, yet eerily similar to herself crept back into her mind. This brought on a feeling she had been successfully fighting for most of her life. She felt lonely.

Upon finding a meadow, crowded with long, yellow grass peaking out from the slowly melting snow, Adonia's body shifted. The black fur receded back into her silky bronzed skin, and her limbs stretched into endless, lean legs. She found a small patch of grass, free of the white shroud, and lay her back down into the moist ground, exposing her naked front to the warming sun and blue skies above.

A long and nearly sad sigh escapes her full lips as she lets her thoughts of the muscular man, her supposed savior, overtake her mind. She not only felt lonely, but lost. What was it about him? Why can't she get him out of her head!

She replays every last memory she has of him in her mind. She thinks back to the conversation they shared on the porch when she opened up to him. She told him everything. No matter how hard she fought, it all just spilled out to him. To Logan – a man who could still be considered a complete stranger. But a man, nonetheless, that even her most primal instincts trusted. That even her animal wanted to get closer to.

She had never, once even, opened up like that to anyone. Not her mother whom she felt abandoned her countless times. Not even Matthew, the man she loved. Or thought she loved. She was beginning to doubt the feelings she experienced so many years ago.

She absently ran her fingers over the raised and battered tissue between her breasts. She wondered if she could ever put it out of her mind. If she could ever heal the scar and move on. If there was maybe another who could make that possible. Make her forget.

Her thoughts soon moved to the older woman who was so selfless and genuine. Gertrude. She was an absolute treasure.

Adonia felt a strange sensation as she remembered catching random trades of a different scent on the woman. Not another human, or even anything living. It was a part of her. Something that surfaced only towards the end of the day when she grew tired, or when she strained her energy too much. The odor was odd, and it worried Adonia. She silently feared for the older woman and for the secrets that she kept. She had a sinking feeling that whatever the scent came from was no good.

A few days later in the nearest town, a young woman steps out the back door of a busy bar. Her bright red hair is half way up, and her eyes look furious.

"I'm taking a damn break, Dan!" the woman turns and shouts at the older man who is propping the door open. "If I don't get a minute, I'll tear her ugly head off!"

"Fine Nic, but you've got twenty minutes. Or I will send your ass home for the night!" the man retorts before closing the door.

"Fucking asshole" the woman mutters. She finds a dry seat on the generator and lights a cigarette while cradling a to-go box in her lap. She opens the lid and starts picking at the thick, greasy fries then pats her stomach. "I have got to stop eating this crap" she says with a disgusted turn of her upper lip.

The woman dunks a fry into the puddle of runny ketchup and plops it into her mouth between drags of her cigarette. She can hear the rowdy drunks inside and the sound of some crappy, overplayed country music in the background. She reminds herself of the hundred plus dollars in her pocket that she has already made in tips for the night. That helps. Just a few more hours until she can go home.

Nicole's calming thoughts are interrupted when a strange feeling washes over her. The feeling of being watched. She lets the cigarette hang from her lips as her eyes dart back and forth, trying to catch any sign of life. The empty lot straight ahead looks deserted, but the lights above her head only illuminate so far, and night is growing darker. The parking lot to her right is quiet. Full of trucks and trailers, but no people. She looks to her left but she can't see around the large, industrial sized dumpsters.

Her movements are slow and nervous as she holds her container of food tightly in both hands and steps lightly on her toes. She leans forward to peer around the steel receptacle. Nothing moves or approaches in the next few moments. She lets out a breath and relaxes, mentally cursing herself for being so paranoid. Until a large form emerges from the darkness of the vacant lot straight ahead.

"Oh Jesus!" Nicole exclaims. She stumbles back against the generator and nearly loses her food as her arms stiffen.

She watches, heart beating rapidly and eyes wide, as a large canine shape moves forward. The animal is obviously cautious, keeping its head low and steps small. Nicole notes that the animal is in fact, a wolf. A very large, dark coated wolf.

She presses closer to the generator, trying hard to catch her breath as the wolf approaches. The edge of the pale light illuminates its face. Its fur is as dark as night and she can see the vibrant gleam in the animals deep blue eyes.

Nicole's fear begins to reside when she can hear a soft whimper. The wolf's eyes remained towards her as it continued near, pausing every other step to let out another quiet whine. She looks down at the food in her hands then back at the animal. Her heart immediately swells.

"Are you hungry, sweetheart?" She slowly crouches to a squat and tosses a french fry. The wolf immediately snatches it from the ground and looks back.

The woman stiffly throws a handful more, careful in her movements so to not startle the animal as it takes the food down in one bite. Again, it looks at her with a look that almost seemed longing.

"Okay," says Nicole, her voice is sweet but shaky as she tears her hamburger in half. The wolf slowly licks its lips as it waits for the food to be thrown its way.

The burger is gone within a few bites and Nicole watches as the animal sits down. Its whole body seems to relax as it lets out an audible sigh until it finally lays on its belly. Its sapphire eyes stay fixed on the woman with red hair.

"I don't really have much left" Nicole states. "And I haven't eaten all day…" She trails off as the canine just simply stares. "Do you mind?"

The wolf snorts and turns its head to the left. Its shoulders slump and she can see the white breath escape from its nose. Her eyes remain on the animal as she slowly takes a bite of her food, waiting for any kind of reaction. There is none, so she eats her fill in silence.

"Nic! Get your ass back in here!" The old man cracks the door open enough for his voice to be heard.

Before Nicole can answer, she sees the wolf standing again, its head held low on its shoulders. A deep and skin tingling growl erupts from its throat as it stares at the sliver of light from the door way.

"I'll be there in a minute!" She shouts back as her eyes remain fixed on the wolf. She hears the door slam closed but the wolf stays, eyes locked to where the man was standing only a second ago. A crooked smile appears on her lips. "I like you." She jokes as she gathers her now empty box of food into her arms and stands.

"Well, I should get back to work." She steps towards the door. The wolf watches for a moment, then without hesitation, sprints back into the darkness until Nicole can no longer hear its padded feet against the crunch of the leftover snow.

Nicole shakes her head as if to rid her thoughts of the last fifteen or so minutes. A surreal happening, she knew. She enters the loud and booming atmosphere of the bar and is immediately swarmed with commands by the patrons. She throws away her trash, washes her hands, and gets back to work with the fakest smile she can pull off.

For three nights in a row, Nicole is greeted by the same wolf in the same fashion. She steps out for her break with a new box of food and within minutes the animal appears. She feeds the wolf half of her plate and makes small talk, as if the creature can understand her. On the third night, she opens up a little more.

"So Evelyn always gets what she wants. She gets the better sections and always gets her orders in first. It's all because of the crappy blonde dye-job she did a couple weeks ago. I just think it makes her look even more like a bimbo than she did before. But I guess the rumor is true. Sex appeal will get you far in life…" she pauses for a moment when she notices the wolf is looking at her sideways. "Oh my god, I'm rambling. I'm so sorry…" then she starts laughing. "Like you can understand me any way!"

The wolf groans and lays down in its usual spot right across from the woman. It watches her with curiosity and Nicole can't help but laugh a little bit more.

"Want to see something really cool?" She asks. "I've never showed anyone this."

Nicole sits back and takes a deep breath, then looks down at the partially eaten chicken-fried steak. She focuses on a piece of the meat that was already cut and raises her hand over the Styrofoam box. A faint humming sound is heard and the wolf stands to its feet. It watches cautiously as the human centers on the food in her lap.

Suddenly, a morsel lifts effortlessly into the air. It hovers about a foot above the plate for just a moment and Nicole watches as the wolf cautiously takes a step back. She smiles a little then twitches her fingers in the direction of the animal. The piece of meat goes flying until finally landing at the wolf's feet.

The dark-haired creature stares at the food momentarily and looks back at the woman. It takes another small step back and groans quietly. The animal seems anxious.

Nicole laughs. "It's nothing to be afraid of, sweetheart! I think you may be a bit more dangerous than a little trick like that!"

The wolf still seems skeptical. It keeps its distance and watches the woman closely.

"Well trust me," she continues. "That was nothing. Watch this."

In the blink of an eye, Nicole vanishes into thin air. The container of food moves as if it were being handled by a visible being from where it had been sitting on the woman's lap and is placed on top of the whirring generator. The sound of footsteps on the cold snow is prominent, and footprints appear in a line towards the animal.

The wolf growls lowly and backs up a few more steps until Nicole appears again only feet away from the animal.

"How cool was that?" She exclaims.

Nicole watches as the animal rears up. She hears bones cracking and the tearing of flesh, and within seconds what was once a wolf was now a very naked woman standing in its place. Nicole stumbles backwards and looses her footing, quickly winding up with her butt on the ground. Muffled gasps get caught in her throat as she cannot believe what just happened before her eyes.

"You thought your little trick was cool?" The nude female grins lopsidedly down at her.

The red-haired woman on the ground tries for any words but is still having a hard time. Finally, in a shaky voice, she mumbles the first thing her mind could muster.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!"

* * *

**I'm so sorry it has taken me so long to update! I know it has been forever! But I'm back, and hopefully for good. So many ideas swimming around in this head of mine! Please let me know what you think. Critiques and all that are always appreciated :)**


End file.
